


Oh No!

by grimeysociety



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain Marvel (2019), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Captain America Does Not Exist, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Lesbian Carol Danvers, Panic Attack Comfort, Political Campaigns, Rough Sex, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark for President, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-10-19 20:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 89,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17608091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: Tony Stark is running for President, and he wants Darcy Lewis to run his campaign. She must navigate the new world of dirty politics and grandstanding, with her rival campaign manager Steve Rogers complicating every part of her professional and personal life.





	1. Part One: The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I don't what I'm doing but HI. I'm super excited for this. A Presidential race AU featuring some aspects of the MCU. The world will be built all in good time, and I hope everything will make sense in due time. This fic is un-beta'd. 
> 
> The title of this fic comes from "Oh No!" by Marina and the Diamonds.

_"I know exactly what I want and who I want to be."_

\- "Oh No!" by Marina and the Diamonds

 

**Part One: The Meeting**

 

 

Darcy’s date went well. That’s what she planned to tell Jane tomorrow, when she ended up back at her apartment, Tommy’s mouth on her neck with his hand down the front of her jeans.

She was on top. It was her preferred position because it meant she got what she wanted, and she was never left unsatisfied. As soon as Tommy grunted and came underneath her, the sweat beginning to dry on their skin, Darcy climbed off of him and went to the bathroom.

She peed, showered and returned to the room, the condom tied off and in the bin by her bed.

She’d never seen Tommy before that night. Darcy did not play games. She was busy enough to know what she wanted and how she wanted it. She went to check her phone on her bedside table and Tommy craned over her shoulder.

“Tinder? Are you serious?”

He sounded genuinely offended, and Darcy gave him a cursory glance. He was cute, intelligent enough to understand the jokes in the satirical movie they went to, or at least, he was smart enough to know when to laugh. He was a banker but not particularly interesting. There was never anything said within their four hours spent together that told Darcy this was otherwise a casual hook-up.

Darcy shrugged a shoulder, and Tommy’s face twisted in disgust.

“That’s cold.”

“Not really. You sent DTF, I just sent back yes,” she retorted.

She swiped right on a blonde engineer named Derek and Tommy tutted, sitting up and pulling his discarded pants toward him to redress.

“You could have come with me to a wedding this weekend,” he muttered with his back to her, and Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. I’m not the girl you take to some lame wedding.”

His whipped his head toward her, frowning. “Y’know, you’re not all that great.”

“I really am, though,” Darcy said, narrowing her eyes and giving him her best patronizing smile. “And I’m not some chick you trick into caring about you feeling insecure for being single. That’s sounds like a _you_ problem.”

A text came up on her phone and she was momentarily distracted while Tommy pulled back on his shirt, shaking his head at her.

“I wasted my Saturday on some man-hating bitch.”

Darcy laughed without mirth. “I _love_ men. I don’t like _boys_.”

He muttered something under his breath, shoving his shoes back on. Darcy read the text, she had meeting scheduled for ten AM the next day, with a possible donor for her non-profit.

Tommy stalked out of her bedroom and Darcy heard her front door slam seconds later.

Not her worst date by far. She slept well.

-

She circled the reception at work the next day, coffee in hand. Her 10 AM was running late, but Darcy wasn’t above waiting if it meant more money.

She started the non-profit with Doctor Jane Foster after she finished law school. They were once roommates at Culver University in New York, and since it turned out Darcy hated practising law, she swapped her comfy pay check for scrapings and slummed it with Jane for the last two years.

They specialised in supporting underprivileged young women, emphasising empowering women to pursue jobs in STEM. Darcy had no background in STEM, but she still knew its obvious importance.

It was past 11:30 when a knock came on Darcy’s office door and she looked up from her desk, expecting her secretary Charlotte to tell her the meeting had been cancelled.

Instead stood a middle-aged man wearing a cream linen suit with tinted sunglasses, his pocket square blue and crisp, his hair perfectly coiffured, his smile bright. Darcy’s eyes widened.

“Are you… lost?” she asked, because the man looked just like Tony Stark.

“If you’re not Darcy Lewis, then, yeah – I’m lost,” he replied, and he sounded just like the billionaire turned superhero, too.

Semi-retired superhero, but that was a rumor. Darcy remembered seeing him on TV. One of the teenage girls who came in every day after school for homework help always wore her Iron Man snapback.

“You look a lot like Tony Stark,” Darcy said, clicking her pen as he came over to sit in the chair in front of her desk, crossing one leg over the other.

He dusted one pristine sleeve and smiled. “I get that a lot.”

It was definitely him. Darcy stopped clicking her pen and put it down abruptly, clearing her throat.

“Mr. Stark, it would be a pleasure to have you as one of our patrons –”

“Tony,” he interrupted, and Darcy paused.

She never got star struck. That was more Jane’s thing. Darcy saw people as mostly the same. She could measure everyone she met pretty well, but seeing someone like Tony Stark in her pokey office in Queens made her reconsider her words carefully.

“Mr. Stark,” she said again, enunciating each syllable carefully. “If you want to make a donation then it’s better for everyone if you’re on time.”

He chuckled, which only made Darcy annoyed. He was one of those rich guys who never looked at his watch. She spied a large silver one on his left wrist, heavy and shining. It had to be worth more than a couple years’ worth of her rent.

“I’m not here to make a donation.”

“Oh,” she said, and she glanced away from his watch back to his face. “Then what is it?”

“I mean, I could make a donation but I’m here to offer you a job.”

“I’m not going to work for you,” Darcy said immediately. She had no clue how he had even heard about her. Maybe one of the partners and Angler, Poole & White told him about the little sharpshooter who dropped everything for girlie scientists, as one asshole boss told her once.

She couldn’t help it, she started laughing uncomfortably and Tony joined her.

“It’s not with my work. I’m thinking of going into politics.”

Darcy paused, her smile fading. “That’s… good. Putting your powers to good, sort of. You going to run for congress?”

“No,” he said, and he flicked some more invisible dirt from his sleeve. “I was thinking the White House.”

“What.” Darcy said the word more like a statement than a question, flat and short. She picked her pen up again and clicked it, tilting her head. “You’re serious.”

“Sure, I am,” Stark said with a shrug, and Darcy narrowed her eyes while tilting her head to the other side. “You look like a puppy when you do that.”

She ignored his comment, still stuck on his last sentence.

“You want to run… for President?”

“Yes,” Stark said firmly, with a nod. “And I’m gonna win.”

“What?” Darcy said, louder. There was a scuffle down the short hallway and Darcy called out, “Charlotte, I’m fine!”

“Okay!”

Darcy bit her lip, shaking her head a little. Stark just kept looking at her, making her uncomfortable.

“Why are you here, Mr. Stark?”

“I’m offering you a job,” he said, leaning forward to take her pen from her and write down a number on a legal pad he snatched by her elbow.

Darcy froze, watching him write down a long number.

“I don’t care about the money,” Darcy said, and Stark scoffed.

He gestured around the dank office. “Clearly.”

“You want to pay me _three million dollars_ for a campaign that might never leave the ground?”

Tony threw down the pen. “That’s a year’s pay. I’ll quadruple it by 2020 when I win.”

“You want to run in this election,” Darcy whispered. “That’s insane. I have no experience running a campaign for starters. I have no idea about your policies –”

“I’m really into clean energy,” he said, seemingly amused by her. “Also, I don’t like terrorists.”

“Your dad sold weapons. You sold weapons,” she said, pointing at him.

“I don’t anymore,” he said lightly. “And I’ll write you a check for this place. I’ll give every kid a Stark Scholarship.”

“That’s _bribery_ , Mr. Stark.”

“Again, Tony. My father was Mr. Stark,” Stark said, frowning a little.

“You’re _both_ Mr. Stark,” Darcy retorted.

She leaned back, staring at the piece of paper with all the zeros on it. The sound of a fire truck could be heard outside while a phone rang in the distance.

“You’re the first person I’ve gone to.”

Darcy’s gaze met Stark’s, and she saw he was serious.

“Why?”

“What?” he asked.

“Why me?” she said, and he pulled out his phone, scrolling for a few seconds before holding up the device for her to see.

It was a picture of the last time Congresswoman Gunn gave a speech at the NYC Science Slam two months ago. Every year it was usually the same speech, and Darcy could be seen in one corner with her nose stuck in her phone, completely disinterested.

“You tired of politics?” Stark asked, and Darcy frowned.

Generally, people didn’t get much change to occur. There was so much money, so many hands exchanged. People wanted secure jobs which meant less risks, less promises kept.

“I’m really tired of politics,” Stark said, tucking his phone away.

“I’m the only one you’ve talked to about this?” Darcy asked. “So if I say no –”

“I’ll find someone else, but you are my first choice.”

“And if I tell anyone about this meeting?”

“I’ll sue,” Stark said, his tone light.

Darcy blanched, disgusted. The _entitlement_ of it all.

“Actually, no,” he amended, “I like you.”

Darcy opened her mouth, but he suddenly got up from his seat and turned his heel, walking out her door.

Darcy followed, and Stark turned around, a business card appearing in front of her face.

“Call this number tomorrow.”

Darcy took the card wordlessly, and Stark left her in the hallway with Charlotte staring after him from her desk.

Darcy took three seconds to let everything sink in, staring at the card in her hand.

No other words would suffice:

“What the fuck?”

 

 


	2. Part Two: You Haven't Killed Anyone Before, Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy with the responses for this fic so far! Thank you for giving this one a go. :)
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)

_"I will never soften my grip."_

\- "Oh No!" by Marina and the Diamonds

 

**Part Two: You Haven't Killed Anyone Before, Right?**

 

 

 

Darcy stared at her ceiling while she tried to sleep, and for once she didn’t go on Tinder to find a guy to hook up with.

Her mind was going over the last twelve hours, and she came to the conclusion that Tony Stark intrigued her. Frustratingly, despite knowing better, she wanted to find out where this might go. She couldn’t decide whether she would say yes or no to him but she knew she’d call him the next day.

Around noon on Monday, she called the number on the business card Stark left her. She waited two rings before it answered.

“Twenty-four hours.”

He sounded expectant, smug. Darcy suppressed her urge to roll her eyes and gripped her landline receiver a little harder, the plastic creaking against the force of her hand.

“I’ll send you a car to pick you up.”

“Okay.”

“Twenty minutes,” Stark said, and then he hung up.

Darcy put the phone on its hook and tapped her fingers against her desk, wondering if she came across as eager. She took a day to call, was he expecting her later in the week?

“Hey, Jane,” she called out, and she heard an affirmative hum down the hallway.

She walked out of her office to Jane’s, seeing her friend eating a granola bar while she highlighted a document, stacks of papers littering her desk.

“I’m going out, to another meeting.”

“Tony Stark?” Jane asked, eyebrows hiking.

Darcy nodded. “There’s a slight chance I might be kidnapped and I’ll wake up with my kidneys taken, so if I’m missing, give this business card to the police.”

She handed Jane the card, who didn’t seem troubled. “Uh-huh. You think you can drag your carcass back here by 4.30 regardless?”

“Sure,” Darcy said, and Jane went back to her paper, chewing. “Code Club, right?”

“Yeah. Don’t be late,” Jane said, and Darcy waved her off.

“I’m _never_.”

The car Stark sent was late. Darcy stood shivering in the street with her arms crossed, seeing the limo pull up.

“Fucking finally,” she muttered.

It was a dumb idea to send a car like that to Queens, and she’d tell Stark the second he got out – except he wasn’t in the car at all. The driver stepped out, someone Darcy knew she should recognize but couldn’t quite name.

“Darcy Lewis?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, arms still crossed. It was impossible to stay still, her whole body shook from the cold.

“Please,” the driver replied, coming around to the side adjacent to the curb and opened one of the passenger doors.

Darcy bit her lip and walked toward him, ducking her head and climbing inside.

He shut the door and she looked around, finding a mini bar. She found a Snickers and unwrapped it, taking a bite of it as the driver took off.

It was not a comfortable ride. She ate the candy bar mostly out of nervousness. There was a chance that this was an elaborate prank. The kidney thing was also not totally implausible.

The driver looked at her in the rear view mirror and Darcy met his gaze, swallowing the remains of her swiped chocolate without blinking. If she meant it to be intimidating, it didn’t work. The driver just smirked and said nothing.

Darcy wondered where they were going. Stark owned several offices in New York. After half an hour, they were in Manhattan and Darcy’s mouth dropped.

“We’re here,” the driver announced.

Of course – the mansion on a street corner with towering hedges was Stark’s place. Darcy knew he grew up in New York but she thought he would have lived in the country. And then she had another thought – it wasn’t like Stark to not have some kind of ostentatious gesture for everything. This building had to be a least a hundred years old and could have been donated as a significant historical residence and turned into a museum.

But why the hell would Stark scale back, even if there were only three people in his family?

They drove up to the gate and were let in, Darcy’s mouth finally closing as she tried to decide how best to turn Stark down.

She’d look him dead in the eye and say, _thanks but no thanks_.

 _No fucking thank you_.

The driver parked and Darcy waited while the engine idled, and then her door was opened and she stepped out.

“Uh, thanks,” she murmured.

The driver guided her toward the front door, which had a brass knocker in the shape of a lion’s head. The driver pressed the button for the doorbell and the door flew open, making Darcy jump.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, and she glanced at the driver awkwardly. “What is this?”

“Just Tony’s brand of hospitality.”

“What?”

“You’ll see what I mean.”

She meant to ask him his name but he already steered her inside and she stopped dead in her tracks the second she realized how high the ceilings were.

It was like a cathedral, all dark interiors and wood. She expected something gaudy, from Stark’s style she saw yesterday. Maybe a line of Gucci slides by the door and Versace robes hung on a coat stand.

“Miss Lewis!”

Darcy turned toward the voice, and saw Stark walking in, wearing sweatpants and sneakers. His Black Sabbath t-shirt showed flecks of either food or dirt splattered near the neckline, and she could see the color of his eyes, which were a rich brown.

Brown and warm, and welcoming. Darcy didn’t trust that.

“Hi,” she said, and he didn’t offer to shake her hand. “I wasn’t sure if I’d come.”

“Well, it took you a day to call. Happy find you okay?”

“What?” Darcy looked at the driver and realized that was his name. “Happy Hogan.”

“Yeah,” Happy said, and then he glanced at Stark. “Need anything else, boss?”

“No, you can head out.”

Happy nodded at Darcy and departed without another word, leaving Stark and Darcy alone in the massive foyer, a grandfather clock chiming one o’clock in the distance.

“I have another meeting at 4.30,” Darcy said, and she wished she sounded less abrasive a second later. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Right, well. You had lunch?”

“Nah,” Darcy replied, and Tony smiled.

“Cool. Pierogis, then.”

He turned his heel and Darcy stared after him, and like they were repeating yesterday, she followed him out of the room.

“Mister Stark, I won’t stay long. What I have to say won’t take long.”

Darcy came to another stop in a living room with plush carpets littered with toys and shoes. There was a giggle and Darcy spotted a woman whose back was to her, her long red hair down to her waist.

“Pepper, she’s here,” Stark said.

The woman turned, her face brightening. “Hello! Welcome to the chaos.”

There was another giggle and a toddler in her lap broke free, stumbling toward Stark, her arms outstretched.

“Is that –?” Darcy asked, and Stark picked up the child, whose hair matched Pepper Potts’.

“Morgan Stark,” Stark said, and the toddler smiled.

Darcy couldn’t help smiling back, but she was all too aware that this was a privilege. During her digging online yesterday there were maybe two pictures of Stark’s child to be found.

“Hi,” she breathed, and Morgan promptly hid her face in Stark’s shirt. “She’s beautiful.”

Pepper got up from the floor, smiling at Darcy while she walked over. She held out her hand and Darcy shook it, and a wave of jasmine hit Darcy’s nose.

The woman was the kind of beautiful that swept a person off their feet, and Darcy found herself blushing, aware of her scuffed high-tops and lumpy beanie.

“It’s so nice of you to come here,” the redhead said, “I know it’s weird that we do it this way, but we’d rather keep this to ourselves right now.”

“Sure,” Darcy said, and in the corner of her eye Stark smirked. “Your husband showed up at my work yesterday without much notice, and now –”

“What were you going to say before, Miss Lewis?” Stark interrupted.

Darcy was thrown by his directness and gave an uncomfortable chuckle.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

The three of them were silent while Morgan babbled something indecipherable. All Darcy could do was wait, and hope that she could decide what to do sooner rather than later.

Pepper finally spoke, gesturing to a clock. “We should eat.”

“Okay,” Darcy found herself saying, and she watched Stark walk away to play with Morgan, murmuring something into the toddler’s ear and stroking her mop of red curls.

She cleared her throat. “Uh, where’s the bathroom?”

Pepper broke into another smile. “Oh! Sorry. I’ll show you.”

Darcy followed her out and down the hall, glancing at Pepper’s bare feet more than once. The other woman was so easy it made her uncomfortable.

“I was going to say no,” Darcy blurted, and Pepper chuckled.

“I can see why.”

“I know it’s not my place, but – ” Darcy was distracted by a painting that had to be a genuine Turner. She whipped her head back toward Pepper as they walked. “I don’t think he’s in a position to be a candidate.”

They stopped in front of a discreet water closet tucked beside a staircase and Pepper opened the door wide.

“I understand, Darcy,” Pepper said, and their eyes met. “But Tony’s been in the public eye long enough for his secrets to not really be secret anymore.”

Darcy nodded, considering her words. Tony’s life was a rich tapestry of triumphs and mishaps, and on paper a man who fights crime would be appealing to a lot of people.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Pepper said, moving aside.

Darcy went inside, very slow in her process of peeing and washing her hands. She half wanted to hover above the toilet seat but decided things were weird enough already. It was just a toilet, never mind that it belonged to a billionaire superhero philanthropist.

She exited the bathroom and looked down the hallway, wondering how many rooms the place had and whether they were even used.

Darcy followed the sound of Morgan’s voice, walking back to the living room where Pepper was setting up a picnic on the floor.

The promised pierogis lay on several plates.

“We need to reconsider the carpets, Tony,” Pepper muttered.

“You and your stains, Monkey,” Stark said to Morgan, poking her nose.

Morgan ate clumsily with concentration and Darcy decided to do the same.

They were silent except for the toddler’s occasional outbursts. The food was rich and filling, and Pepper’s hospitality was second to none but Darcy was no fool.

She could see all the angles. Stark was showing her that he wasn’t just the guy she met yesterday. He had orchestrated this in such a way that Darcy’s heart might melt.

“Mister Stark, can we talk?” Darcy asked as she put down her empty plate and swallowed. “Alone?”

Stark and Pepper exchanged a glance.

“Of course. Morgan needs a nap,” Pepper said.

Within a couple minutes the toddler was bundled up and Pepper took her away. Darcy waited until she was well out of earshot before she turned to Stark and pursed her lips.

“Look, I get it. You did your research,” she began, and Stark blinked at her.

“I wonder what you mean.”

“I’m all this and brains, too, Mister Stark,” Darcy went on, her voice dry.

He gave a short laugh, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

Darcy sat up straighter, narrowing her eyes. “So then you would know that despite your attempt at making yourself more relateable, I can’t be won because you know about my family life.”

 _Or lack thereof_ , she could have added, but didn’t.

“When you researched me, what came up? Or did you have to do a thorough hack?” Darcy asked, and Stark’s face changed to something colder.

“What about you? Find the skeletons?”

Darcy nodded. “I thought about the sex tapes.”

“Don’t say that in this house,” he said. “My kid’s upstairs.”

Darcy knew she crossed a line and held up her hands. “I’m sorry. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. And I’m being nice, compared to what other people will say when you’re dragged after you announce that you’re running.”

Stark looked away, sighing. “Yeah.”

“I thought about the fact that you’ve decided already I’m supposed to set aside nearly two years of my life for you,” Darcy added.

There was a pause and Darcy decided to go all in.

“No tea, no shade, but I don’t _know_ you. It’s why I don’t call you _Tony_ , Mister Stark.”

Stark let out a short laugh. “Okay. See that’s just making me want you more.”

He managed to throw her off her game again and Darcy frowned.

“Me arguing with you?”

“Yeah,” Stark said, shrugging. “It’s great. I love when women try to break my balls.”

Darcy snorted before she could stop herself, and then she began to laugh. The situation had crossed into ludicrous.

“And _that’s_  not in the sex tapes,” he added, and Darcy covered her mouth to stop from laughing too loud. “As far as I know.”

“There are more, right?” Darcy asked, and Stark nodded. “Jesus Christ.”

“There are nine I can recall.”

Darcy’s mouth dropped. “How?”

“What, you never -?”

“No!” she cried, laughing again. “No tapes. _God_ , no.”

She felt Stark’s eyes on her, watching her process their moment together. She pulled off her beanie, attempting to smooth her hair down as she sighed.

“We both know I’d be under the microscope, too,” she said. “That’s why you did the background check on me.”

Stark nodded.

“My dad won’t turn up because I’m suddenly on the news,” she added. “He’s not the type to come out of the woodwork. It’s just my mom I worry about.”

“You haven’t killed anyone before, right?” Stark asked, and Darcy shot him an exasperated look. “Well, I have. I ask just in case.”

“I’ve never _killed anyone before_ , Mister Stark,” Darcy snapped.

He nodded, and they fell silent. Darcy closed her eyes, sighing again.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I’ll help you. I’m not saying yes, I’m just saying maybe for now.”

She opened her eyes and saw Stark smiling at her, triumphant. Darcy glanced away at the clock and cringed.

“Right, 4.30. We’ll go to my office,” Stark said, standing up.

He offered Darcy a hand and she took it, Stark pulling her to her feet. At that moment, Pepper walked in and gave Stark a hopeful smile.

“She said she’s not saying yes, she’s saying maybe,” Stark said, and Pepper looked at Darcy.

“She’s not saying yes, she’s saying maybe,” the redhead repeated.

-

Stark handed her glass of scotch and sat opposite her at his enormous desk, his own drink’s ice clinking while he took a sip.

“That won’t fly,” Darcy said, pointing to the beverage. “You can’t be a drunk.”

“I doubt I’ll be wasted in front of the cameras, Darcy,” he replied.

She pursed her lips. “Really? Because there are a lot of Las Vegas escapades alone, Mister Stark.”

He shot her an irritated look, putting his feet up on his desk, tilting back in his chair.

“You’re in my house, you said maybe. Call me Tony.”

Darcy let out a breath. “Okay. _Tony_.”

He flashed her a smile and she grimaced back at him. She picked up her own glass and took a long sip.

“What’s your official pitch?” she asked when she put her drink down. “Why should you be President of these United States of America?”

Tony shrugged. “I’m rich. I’m smart. I kick ass.”

“That’s your pitch? That’s a child’s answer. Give me a real reason, Tony,” Darcy said. She tilted her head. “Why now, instead of ten years ago when you were already eligible?”

“I wasn’t Iron Man.” He frowned. “And Morgan saw a video of a dying polar bear when I had my back turned. And I know I haven’t done enough. It’s not enough.”

Darcy mirrored his frown. “How did she manage that?”

“How does that kid manage to do anything?” Tony retorted, waving a hand. “She’s like a fucking ninja.”

“You want clean energy? So do that without running for President.”

Tony shook his head. “I can’t help it. _Pepper’s_ better at explaining me than I am.”

He looked toward the window, before looking back at Darcy.

“I’m going to win, Darcy.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t know if it’s true,” Darcy replied, leveling his intense gaze.

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t interested at all. You could have just called. You came all this way just to say no?”

They stared at one another for half a minute before Darcy spoke:

“I guess not.”

“Hmm,” Tony replied, looking pleased.

She could spend two years of her life with this guy only to lose. She’d never done something at this large of a scale before. She was used to hosting luncheons for women with large purses, but she’d never wanted anything to do with politics.

But it was _impressive_ , and Darcy liked being impressive. She liked her own ambition.

A twenty-eight year-old running a political campaign for Tony Stark? It was a lot.

She bit her lip.

“I’ve done things like you,” she said, and for the first time, Tony was surprised.

“Like what?”

“Stuff you wouldn’t find on the Internet or in some file,” she replied.

Tony blinked. “Drugs?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what?”

“Weed. Molly.”

“The worst you’ve done?” Tony asked.

Darcy felt herself smile, feeling somewhat mischievous. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“I meant the hardest drug you’ve done.”

“Coke.”

Tony was quiet, taking a sip of his drink.

“Hmm. _Really_ ,” he murmured. “I mean, I’ve paid for my college days. And everything since.”

Darcy waited for him to cross into sex. He might have found her Tinder profile.

“Whatever you ask, I’ll answer.”

“Really?” Tony repeated, surprised once more.

He pulled back his legs and planted his feet on the floor, scooting his chair closer to her.

She waited, holding her breath.

“I don’t want to ask anything that might make me seem like a creep.”

Darcy let out her breath and laughed shortly. “Well, that’s a first.”

“I’m married now,” Tony retorted, seeming genuinely hurt. “It’s not appropriate, most likely.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m straight. I went to law school. I’m in my twenties.”

“So whatever I think has happened probably has?” Tony asked, and Darcy shrugged.

She felt like she could be talking to Jane in that moment. There was something about Tony that made her feel easier about her personal life. Maybe because she knew he knew so much already.

“I haven’t had an abortion,” she said.

Tony nodded. “Not my business.”

“Well, that topic will come up during the campaign.”

“I know.”

Darcy took a deep breath.

“I’m not a survivor of any kind of abuse. But I was passed around once.”

It was one of her favorite memories from her internship during law school. It was five years ago and there were five guys and Darcy. They were friends of a guy she was seeing, and Darcy hadn’t told many people that story. She knew the kinds of reactions a story like that would cause – horror or disgust.

To his credit, Tony’s eyebrows just hiked as he said, “Okay, then.”

Darcy leaned back, folding her arms.

“Okay, then,” she echoed.

Admitting to enthusiastic group sex had to mean she could trust Tony Stark to some extent.

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Tony locked eyes with her once more.

“So when do I announce I’m running?”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's sexuality is not to make her seem edgy, I just wanted to try something different and have her be assertive and unapologetic. She's meant to dodge the expectations of what a female protagonist is "supposed" to be, and in some ways I think she's far more realistic in her honesty.
> 
>  
> 
> [Turner paintings cost like $30 million apparently](https://news.artnet.com/market/sothebys-london-turner-landscape-31-million-914222)


	3. Part Three: Poaching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We meet Steve in this one!!!! Finally!

_"Hot blooded, all American girl_  
_I was raised by a television_  
_Every day is a competition..."_

"American Girl" by Bonnie McKee

 

**Part Three: Poaching**

 

 

The next two weeks flew by. It was Code Club one afternoon and then suddenly Darcy was reading Tony’s speech for the eighth time and wondered how big of a shitstorm was brewing on the horizon.

She might be humiliated tomorrow. She spoke with Jane about it, wondering if it was actually possible to juggle it all. They agreed it wasn’t, and it hurt Darcy more than she thought it would.

“Take the money,” Jane said, two nights before while they drank beers in Darcy’s office.

Charlotte went home an hour before and they ordered Chinese food.

Darcy made some non-committal sound at the back of her throat but Jane stared her down, scrutinizing her.

“Do it. Three million? We’d be afloat for years,” Jane said, and Darcy had to agree. “I know you think it’s icky but if you sign a contract it won’t be a waste of your time.”

Jane took a swig of her beer and Darcy nodded, passing a hand over her face.

“He’s not gonna win.”

“I’d vote for him,” Jane said, and Darcy tilted her head at her.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” her friend said with a shrug. “If what you said about his plan for clean energy is true.”

“I would have thought you’d vote for Gunn,” Darcy said.

“She forgets my name every time I see her,” Jane replied. “And we’re not a forgettable organization. She chooses who she cares about, and it’s not us. I’m not voting for her just because she’s a woman.”

“I’m gonna get shit for this. _We_ might,” Darcy said, and Jane shrugged again.

“Who gives a shit? We’ll have three million dollars to comfort us.”

Sitting alone with the speech, she crossed out a section with pencil and frowned. Her phone rang and she unlocked it, not even checking the number.

“You need to sleep.”

“Could say the same for you,” Tony replied. “You home?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I don’t know about the final statement still.”

“I’m not declaring my party tomorrow.”

Darcy looked toward the ceiling of her bedroom and sighed. They’d had this conversation a least three times already. Tony was not Republican material anymore, but he’d be less alienating if he aligned himself with the left.

“I think you should.”

“Why don’t I be an independent?” Tony asked, and Darcy covered her phone to growl softly on her end without being heard.

“The last independent President was the only independent to ever exist, and that was _George Washington_.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Tony, I need you to say you’re not George Washington,” Darcy said, tossing aside the speech and rubbing her eyes.

“Okay.”

“No, I really need you to say it out loud. _I’m not George Washington_.”

“I’m not George Washington,” Tony repeated flatly.

-

Darcy’s skirt was too tight. Not because it didn’t fit, but because Darcy usually dressed for comfort and forgot how pencil skirts made her legs and ass trapped.

She refused the Louboutins, opting for simple patent leather heels instead but allowed the makeup artist to put whatever they wanted on her face so she looked less tired.

She hardly slept. It turned out the idea of dozens of cameras trained on her was enough to keep her up and obsessively reading Tony’s speech.

The press conference was held outside the Stark mansion in Manhattan. They had little notice while Darcy and the growing team were scrambling around for the last fortnight.

Tony pushed for a surprise, but some rumors already leaked and Darcy was sent emails from concerned former colleagues.

Was it some kind of elaborate joke and she was in on it? Darcy deleted each email.

Tony stood at a nondescript black podium with the punishing chill of the January wind in his face. Darcy, Pepper and Colonel Rhodes stood behind him with the view of the house blocking the sun.

“I have asked the press to be here so I can announce my candidacy for the upcoming 2020 election.”

Cameras were constantly clicking, and Tony’s smile never faltered.

“You know my name. I’m running for President.”

Darcy stared at the back of his head, stunned. He skipped most of his speech. He said nothing about the outlines of his policies, nothing about his concern about the direction of the country.

“Questions?” Tony asked, and every seated journalist was up, firing questions.

“Tony, Tony!” an African American man yelled, and Tony pointed at him. “Is this a joke?”

“No. I’m not joking,” Tony replied, “And no-one else ask that.”

“Which party’s nomination will you be seeking?”

Tony shrugged. “Haven’t decided that yet.”

“You think you can just wait and the offers will come?” someone else yelled, and Tony shrugged again.

“Sure.”

“Jesus,” Darcy whispered, looking down. He was about to be eaten alive.

To her surprise, a few laughs rang out among the crowd and Colonel Rhodes even chuckled softly beside her.

“How long have you considered running?”

“Many years, but I was busy,” Tony drawled. “You covered that a few times, right, Ken?”

The journalist who had to be Ken looked sheepish. “Of course. But you suppose Iron Man translates to a candidacy?”

“I am a natural citizen,” Tony retorted. He gestured behind them at the house. “I’ve lived in this house on and off for more than fourteen years.”

Darcy found herself nodding.

“And believe it or not, I am over thirty-five, Ken,” Tony concluded. “I’m eligible.”

More laughter, and Ken even smiled.

“Good to know, Tony.”

There was a pause and Tony turned his head looking at Darcy, and she felt her face flush from the acknowledgement.

“I don’t have a lot of time today for questions. My schedule is pretty full today,” Tony said, and Darcy held her breath. “My campaign manager Miss Lewis and her team will be setting up the headquarters this week and you can reach her there for my whereabouts for interviews.”

Ken raised his hand again and Tony paused.

“Ken.”

“Is this the same Darcy Lewis who wrote on Twitter in September 2008 a disparaging comment on John Adams?”

Darcy felt like her stomach was about to fall out of her onto the icy ground. She swallowed while everyone except Tony stared at her.

“What did she write?”

Tony didn’t seem bothered at all by this. He even looked a little amused by Darcy’s horror.

Ken looked at his phone and read aloud:

“John Adams is a whiny little bitch.”

Darcy’s eyes widened, and she remembered writing that tweet. She was only eighteen at the time, still very much in her phase of deliberately trolling the academics around her.

Several people laughed while cameras flashed, and Tony gave an elaborate shrug.

“I suppose she was exercising her free speech, something John Adams wasn’t always a fan of,” he said, but Ken kept looking at Darcy, and all she could do was stare back.

“Would you say you still believe that, Miss Lewis?”

Tony turned his head toward her. “Do you?”

Darcy felt what had to be nervous sweat under her arms beneath her wool coat and swallowed, the cameras still flashing while the press waited, eager for her response.

She looked up at Tony. “Yes.”

She said yes because they wanted to hear her say something. She said yes because they most likely already had a bad opinion of her. She said yes because _yes_ – John Adams _was_ a whiny little bitch.

And maybe she could spin this in some way if she didn’t back down.

-

Five minutes later as Tony was whisked back into the mansion and the press began to disperse, Pepper placed her hand on Darcy’s shoulder and gave her a kind smile.

They stood in the foyer, voices echoing.

“John Adams is a bitch? Really?” Rhodey said.

Darcy could feel a tension headache coming on and went to her handbag for some Advil, avoiding looking at anyone.

“Good thing we didn’t have you sign some morality clause,” Rhodey added, and Darcy let out a breath.

“I want to die,” she whispered, swallowing the capsules dry and squeezing her eyes shut.

“I get that a lot,” Tony said, unperturbed.

“Great way to start, Tony,” Rhodey said, dripping with sarcasm. “Now the Pentagon will call me asking about whether we vouched Darcy properly.”

“I wasn’t being unpatriotic, it was a joke,” Darcy found herself saying. “I was a kid. I even wrote it all in lower case. It was an aesthetic thing.”

“Okay,” Rhodes conceded. “But you need to fix this fast.”

Darcy grimaced. “Think I don’t know that?”

Rhodes sighed, shrugging a little. They began walking down the hall toward the living room with obscenely large television and speaker system, pulling off their coats.

“Did I look good?” Tony asked.

“You know you did,” Darcy replied, and they exchanged a glance.

Pepper turned on the TV and changed it to CNN, footage of Tony speaking at the podium being replayed. Wolf Blitzer was speaking to a Washington correspondent. The general tone was of amusement and surprise.

“We got it,” Tony said, and he smiled at her.

Darcy checked Twitter.

“You’re trending.”

“People are mostly just confused,” Rhodey said, scrolling through his own phone. “I’m getting calls. Uh, about three hundred emails, too. Thanks, Darcy.”

“Bite me,” she threw back. “Wolf Blitzer just said my name.”

“ _Darcy Lewis, like Tony Stark, is new to politics. This morning’s press conference took a bizarre turn when a reporter asked about a certain tweet Miss Lewis composed a decade ago.”_

They cut to the footage of Darcy’s affirmation and she sucked in a breath.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she looked down, seeing a wave of notifications.

“Gangsta,” Darcy read. “Iron Man 4 Pres. The hashtags are insane.”

“Don’t read everything, Darcy,” Pepper warned, scrolling on her phone. “They’re taking you down a peg. Oh. Oh, no. I don’t like that.”

She frowned and Darcy felt the urge to move closer to her and take a peek.

“This looks like a joke,” Rhodey said. “People aren’t taking this seriously.”

“The word’s out. That was today’s agenda,” Tony said, his hands going behind his head as he leaned back in his seat. “Then we deal with the spot fires tomorrow.”

“I can spin this,” Darcy said, and everyone paused their scrolling and look at her. “We can make the centrists agree that I had a right to what I said.”

“The Right won’t –” Rhodey began, but Darcy held up her hand.

“They’ll come around. We’re anti-establishment. See?” Darcy pointed at the list of hashtags, scrolling through tweets. “Anyone else would have apologized. But we don’t.”

Tony smirked. “Right.”

“We’re going to be laughed out of a seat at the table,” Rhodey said. “You don’t know these guys like I do, Darcy.”

She didn’t appreciate his attempt at mansplaining politics. She put her phone face down in her lap and licked her lips. The Pentagon didn’t scare her.

“Obama, then Greene. Democrat, Republican. On and on and on,” she said, leaning forward in her seat, turning her body toward her left where Rhodey sat.

“Yeah?” he prompted, and Darcy smiled.

“Tony’s not a politician,” she replied, and then she took her phone in her hand and stood up, rolling her shoulders. “So we don’t need the table. We’ve got our own.”

She gave Rhodey another long stare while CNN kept playing in the background.

“Don’t interrupt me when I speak ever again,” she said.

She walked out of the living room, taking her first call of the day.

-

Late night talk shows knew Darcy’s name. Jimmy Fallon asked The Roots about John Adams.

There was a strange disconnect, like reality hadn’t quite set in. She managed to avoid being outdoors or anywhere people would recognize her since she spent every moment at the new headquarters a couple blocks over from the Stark mansion.

Volunteers were coming every day to ask if they could help, and soon a chugging machine of young people from all over was working through the first hurdles.

Tony came by often enough, but Darcy knew he was spread thin already.

Darcy deleted Tinder. It got ugly fast when people found her profile, the ones who were already messaging her turned hostile.

“Cherie,” she yelled one morning a week after the press conference, her eyes scanning the cubicles for the blonde intern who was meant to be on a coffee run.

The girl emerged, her hands covering her phone. She mouthed, “For you.”

Why was she being so dramatic?

“Who is it?”

“Steve Rogers,” she called, and Darcy scanned her mental list, the name not ringing any bells.

“He’s one of Congresswoman Gunn’s guys.”

Darcy stalked over, taking the phone from Cherie and putting it to her ear.

“Hi.”

“Is this Darcy Lewis I’m speaking to?”

“Yeah,” she said, hearing his voice was of a younger man, probably her age. Not some intern like Cherie who was hovering until Darcy waved her off, motioning for coffee.

“You still peddling Stark’s wares?” he asked, and she frowned.

What an odd way to put it.

“You make him sound like a snake oil salesman,” she retorted, and she began walking back to her little cubicle.

She settled in her chair as the guy kept talking. She Googled his name, quickly scanning the results and seeing a tall, handsome blonde man walking alongside Gunn, wearing a plaid shirt tucked in his khaki pants.

He reminded her a lot of Clark Kent without the glasses, just before he ripped off his clothes to reveal the Superman insignia on his costume.

“We weren’t sure how serious that press conference was,” he said, and Darcy frowned, pausing at a photo of him shaking hands with an elderly man, the pair of them each holding a part of a giant check.

He was into fundraising, just like her. His non-profit helped fight homelessness, their main demographic US veterans. He was a veteran, and Darcy clicked through to find an official portrait of Rogers wearing his Army uniform.

“Why are you calling, Steve?” Darcy asked, staring at the photograph and frowning.

“Think we could grab a coffee?”

“No,” Darcy said shortly, and promptly hung up. She leaned back in her chair, listening to the constant hum of the office, staring at the Army portrait with her brow still furrowed.

Cherie came over a minute later, coffee mug aloft and Darcy took it, sipping.

“Is that him?” the intern asked, and Darcy nodded vaguely. “ _Very_ handsome.”

-

Half an hour later, Darcy was walking towards another office block after her Uber driver dropped her off, tightening the cord of her coat before stuffing her hands into the pockets.

Congresswoman Gunn’s face was plastered on the walls outside the office building and along down the street with red, blue and white streamers everywhere.

She pushed the glass door open and looked around, seeing a receptionist desk. She approached it, the intern’s eyes widening as she recognized Darcy.

“Do you have -?”

“An appointment? Yeah,” Darcy said, and she looked out along the sea of cubicles, not unlike her own headquarters and spied Rogers speaking with a volunteer while they pored over a poster.

Rogers looked up and froze, and Darcy rose a hand, wiggling her fingers at him.

Rogers rolled up the poster and handed it off to someone and walked over, and in the time he took walking to stand in front of her, Darcy could see he was nearly a full foot taller than her. The photos didn’t do the man justice.

“Hi,” he said, glancing at the receptionist and then Darcy. “This is a surprise.”

“You tried to poach me,” Darcy said, and his blue eyes widened.

He took her by the elbow and steered her back the way he came, his voice low.

“I was hoping to have an open conversation.”

“About you poaching me?” Darcy asked, his hand freeing her while they walked.

Everyone was staring. There were mostly young women there, which didn’t surprise Darcy at all. They all wore variations of the same uniform – a white t-shirt with Gunn 2020 across the front with blue bubble writing. It was tacky. Whoever designed the shirt should be fired.

“That photo out front of Miranda is not her best,” Darcy said, watching the onlookers for any reaction.

Rogers cleared his throat. “Congresswoman Gunn approved it. It polled well.”

“Someone should tell her makeup artist to blend her smokey eye better.”

“Why is this relevant?” Rogers asked, and Darcy sensed his irritation.

Good. He deserved to feel uncomfortable.

Darcy only answered him when they reached his office and he shut the door, going to his chair and sitting down.

She glanced around his office and saw no photos, just a map of the US with arrows everywhere. There could be sensitive information here.

“It’s not. I’m just giving you some pointers,” she said. She cleared her throat. “You tried to poach me.”

Rogers put his elbows on the desk and splayed his large hands open.

“Alright. You’re good. From the digging I did and when I asked around,” he said, and Darcy crossed her arms, throwing herself in the chair opposite him.

“Who’d you ask?”

“Some Harvard guys,” he said, shrugging. “And we work a lot in the same circles.”

“We deal with women who are homeless, mostly,” Darcy replied.

She made a show of looking around again. She felt his eyes on her, and she smiled briefly.

“You think I should be here.”

“You’re wasted on Stark.”

Her eyes met his, narrowing. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” he said, unconvinced. “But we both know that this is a brief impasse –”

“Impasse?” Darcy repeated. “Who talks like that?”

Rogers closed his mouth abruptly and cleared his throat, giving her an annoyed stare. He looked away at his closed door, then back at her.

“Anyway,” he continued. “You –”

He cut himself off, as if understanding something for the first time.

“You think Stark’s gonna win,” he said, his accent showing, and he gave a short laugh. “Otherwise he must be paying you a –”

“What if it’s both?” Darcy interrupted. She glanced at the map, making it obvious that she was taking it in. “What if he’s gonna win and I get paid a shitload or a fuckload or whatever amount it is?”

There was a flash of surprise on Steve’s face at her challenging tone, her vulgarity. He had to know she wasn’t there to make friends.

“You were so insulted that I wanted to offer you a job? At the headquarters of the person who’s going to be the first female President?”

“Oh, _pfft_ ,” Darcy said. “She will _not_. She will not be the first female President.”

Darcy never believed such a thing would happen with such a white bread woman. She bored the pants off of men and women. It didn’t matter that she had experience. It didn’t matter that she was a good person. She would not win.

She thought of the comment Jane made about Gunn never remembering her name and she nodded.

“Yeah. It’s a no for me.”

Rogers just studied her while Darcy looked at her nails. They needed buffing.

“I came here to tell you that I won’t sling mud unless you do,” she said, looking up.

Rogers frowned, and Darcy glanced at his mouth, his lips ideal for sullenness. She imagined him brooding over this exchange, since he probably got everything he asked for especially when it came to women in this job.

“You’re so cynical,” he said, and Darcy smiled.

“I’m realistic. And you have a plethora of shit to work with. Just don’t aim too low.”

He looked away, understanding.

“His kid.”

“Yes. And Pepper,” Darcy said, glad he was on the same page as her.

He didn’t seem stupid, just a little idealistic. He probably thought she’d bend over backwards to work under him.

Darcy rarely did anything under a man.

“Okay.” That was all he said.

Darcy pushed back her chair and stood up, walking over to the door before he could offer to walk her out.

She gave him a glance over her shoulder, and he stared up at her from his desk, his fingers steepled.

“Good luck,” she murmured. “You’ll need it.”

One day she might buy a cordless microphone just to drop it after conversations like that one.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Alien and Sedition Acts](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_and_Sedition_Acts) which were passed during Adams' time in office outlawed “fake, scandalous and malicious writing” about the government, hence Darcy's comment. Also, it was 2008 and she just got Twitter.


	4. Part Four: Senator Carol Danvers

_"It's time to make hits and it's time to diss_  
_How you still dissin', still can't find some hits?"_

\- "Barbie Tingz" by Nicki Minaj

 

 

**Part Four: Senator Carol Danvers**

 

 

Darcy bought a storage unit and ordered a bunch of boxes. Her life in Queens could easily be packed away in a day or so but she left it until a night she had off, bought herself a bottle of Merlot and tackled the task along while listening to music.

The sounds of her ripping off pieces of packing tape interrupted verses but Darcy swayed, unperturbed while she boxed up another shelf.

Her phone rang and she frowned, because she told Cherie and everyone else at headquarters not to call her unless it was especially important.

“Hey,” she said, unlocking her phone and dialing back volume on her laptop.  

“Steve Rogers again, Darcy. I’m sorry,” Cherie said, sounding out of breath. She was too anxious. Darcy needed to sit her down sometime soon and try to rewire her.

Darcy pursed her lips, swiping her glass from the empty bookcase and took a sip. She’d avoided Steve Rogers’ calls for the last few days because she knew what he was going to ask her.

“Give him my number,” Darcy said, and then she hung up and drained her glass before refilling it.

Another two hours later she was in her bedroom and wrapping her framed law degree in an old t-shirt. It had to be some hook-up from God knows when because it was a ripped Cardinals t-shirt in an XXL.

Her phone finally rang while she was flipping through an old year book and she answered, waiting.

“Thank you for returning my call,” he began, sarcastic.

“No problem,” Darcy replied. “What’s on your mind, Captain?”

She could hear people in the background. He was still at work at 11.30 at night. She briefly considered he might sleep there occasionally. He’d have a sleeping bag under his desk, a tight squeeze for such a good boy scout.

She wanted to screw with him just a little bit before he managed to land any hits, so calling him by his former rank was probably what caused him to pause on his end.

“Captain?”

“You’re not gonna do the Superbowl. It is Congresswoman Gunn’s tradition to attend each year and Stark should not try to divert the attention from the game for the sake of grandstanding.”

Darcy let out a short laugh lacking mirth and looked around for her wine glass.

“And Miranda won’t be shaking hands? She’ll stay out of sight the entire game? I live in the real world.”

“If you lived in the real world, you’d know the raging dumpster fire that is your precarious position in this race can only last so long,” Rogers replied, and Darcy could feel his contempt as if it radiated through the phone, despite his level tone.

At least he wasn’t boring, she’d given him that. She also knew that Gunn’s husband was the football fan and not her. She didn’t go there for her own family fun. She would otherwise stay home in the Hamptons and have a barbecue.

“Have you been holding onto that line for a while?" she asked, finally picking up her glass to take another sip of her wine.

“Stark will _not_ go to the Superbowl.”

A chink in his armor. He didn’t know how to deal with her. He tried to appeal to her feminism too soon with that comment about Gunn being the first female President, and now he was just clutching at straws. She half expected him to call her names.

“I’ll think about it,” Darcy said, and then she hung up, swirling the wine on her tongue.

She didn’t actually have to think about it.

-

Darcy got a bunch of men in her contacts asking about the Superbowl and whether she needed a date. Disgusted, she blocked those numbers and made sure she triple checked the schedule.

They arrived fashionably late to the VIP rooms, partly because of Tony’s own style and partly because Darcy wanted the element of surprise.

The look on Steve Rogers’ face when he spotted her was priceless. She wished she could have it framed, it made her feel elated. He glared at her seconds later from across the ball room, the other elite attendees turning to see Tony standing between Darcy and Pepper with a smile on his face.

“What I miss?” he said, and several people laughed.

“Mister Stark!” cried the Ambassador from the United Kingdom, coming forward to shake his hand.

Darcy turned to see the Patriots were ahead, and Pepper smiled at her. They glided over to the bar, their eyes traveling over to Congresswoman Gunn whose surprised was barely concealed by her fake smile while she shook Tony’s hand.

Rogers shook Tony’s hand but it looked like it hurt him to do so. His eyes flitted away from Tony when his hand fell to his side, and then he looked right at Darcy.

“Eat it,” Darcy murmured, before she took a sip of her beer.

Pepper caught her eye and her eyebrows rose, before someone else sidled up to them asking how the Stark toddler was doing.

Tony finally peeled himself away from the crowd to come up beside Darcy while Pepper worked the room.

Tony spoke in a low voice: “That’s Captain Rogers?”

Darcy laughed softly, licking her lips. “The one who said I’m on the wrong side.”

“The poor prick,” Tony murmured, his mouth spreading into a smile. “What did you do to him?”

“He didn’t want us here,” Darcy replied, and they watched Pepper float toward Gunn’s party, shaking hands with the Congresswoman before turning to Rogers.

“He _knows_ we’re staring at him.”

Darcy didn’t care. “I want him to think we’re laughing about him.”

They erupted into guffaws, making Rogers tense up, his eyes moving from Pepper to Darcy. She could see his jaw tick from that distance.

Pepper came back ten minutes later, kissing Tony before taking back her beer from him and drinking.

“What are you two up to?” she murmured, and Darcy’s face returned to neutral, her eyes on the score on the TV screens surrounding them.

-

The next part was probably taking it too far, but Darcy didn’t appreciate the raging dumpster fire analogy. It felt like low hanging fruit, anyway.

Tony was four points behind Congresswoman Gunn when he finally announced he was seeking the Democratic nomination. The only other threat was Governor William Ainsworth, but Darcy still regarded anyone but Tony as boring and safe.

She began to refer to Gunn as Wonder Bread in her head, and occasionally Ainsworth was Bran Muffin if she remembered he existed.

The plan was to make Rogers more pissed off, and it was easier than Darcy expected. She researched him more, finding out that he was the brains behind Carol Danvers’ campaign a few years ago. Danvers was the youngest female senator in Illinois’ history with a huge social media following.

With her headphones in one afternoon ten days after the Superbowl, Darcy sat at her desk at headquarters while she scrolled through Danvers’ Instagram. The woman was less than two years older than Darcy with a lot of the same tastes as her. There were so many pictures of food and Danvers’ ginger cat named Goose.

Darcy scrolled far enough back to find a video of none other than Danvers’ old campaign manager at his laptop. Danvers was the one behind the camera giving her commentary.

“ _And we’ve got Captain Steven Grant Rogers here workin’ hard to make a livin’!”_

Rogers put up a hand, realizing he was being filmed. He smiled shyly, shaking his head at the camera. It only made Danvers giggle, her hand pointing to his two open beers next to him on the edge of the screen.

_“You into the double fisting, Cap?”_

_“You know I hate that expression,”_ Rogers chided, still smiling. It only made Danvers cackle off-screen. _“You gonna put that down so we can get back to work?”_

There was something beneath his tone, a kind of playfulness Darcy recognized as a secret flirting and the video ended with the camera still on his face.

Darcy’s mean idea meant having Jane call around, and eventually they managed to get hold of the senator’s headquarters and schedule.

-

At the beginning of March, Carol Danvers was shaking hands with Darcy and Jane before she took a tour of the non-profit in Queens.

She was all smiles and dressed down, and she might be the coolest person Darcy had ever met. She was surprised the woman got along with Rogers so well.

“Oh, my goodness,” Carol said as a fifth grade girl handed her an illustration of her cat Goose she made using a smart pen donated to the non-profit. “I have to give you a hug. I have to.”

Carol brought little Monica into a hug and glanced at Darcy, mouthing, “Thank you.”

Darcy found herself smiling. She knew the trouble this would cause. By saying yes to the visit, Carol Danvers was inadvertently endorsing Tony for the nomination.

Darcy liked that she was right about Carol as a person, because she hoped the senator did actually care about the young girls she spoke about in speeches.

Once the offices closed for the night Carol hung around, still asking questions about how they were helping girls in Queens and around New York.

“You want something to drink?” Darcy asked finally, and Carol’s eyes lit up.

“You got beer?”

Jane departed eventually, and Darcy gave her a rare hug goodbye since she’d most likely not see her again for several weeks because of Tony’s schedule.

“First debate coming up,” Carol said when they were alone.

Darcy nodded. “Yeah, and I’m new to all this.”

“I wouldn’t know. Tony Stark has a very compelling message.”

Darcy smiled briefly, taking a swig from her beer. Carol hesitated but then pressed on despite whatever thought she had.

“I’m in trouble for being here already,” she admitted, and Darcy met her gaze.

“Hmm.”

They blinked at one another before Darcy cleared her throat.

“I’m expecting an angry phone call any second now.”

“Steve’s not that angry,” Carol replied. “He’s just very protective of whatever corner he’s in.”

Darcy waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t think she’d change her mind about Rogers.

“This is his fourth campaign. When I ran there was the veteran angle. We met through – through a service.”

“For what?” Darcy asked.

Carol looked away. “I got sick during my time in the Air Force and I met Steve through his non-profit.”

Darcy didn’t ask what she suffered with. That felt like something that was probably used against her during her campaign but she couldn’t remember it off the top of her head, but it wouldn’t be a stretch to consider it was post-traumatic stress.

“He wanted me to work for him,” Darcy admitted, and Carol’s eyebrows hiked.

“Oh. And he’s so stubborn, he would have hated you saying no,” she replied.

Darcy was pleased by that, but shrugged to convey nonchalance.

There was a buzz and Carol let out a small groan, pulling out her phone from her jean pocket.

“My PA. She hates me ignoring her.”

“Take it,” Darcy said.

Carol got up and answered it, asking what was happening. She turned around, an amused expression on her face.

“Really? How many times has he left a message?” Her eyebrows nearly reached her hairline. “Five. Okay. Probably because of the photo I put on Twitter.”

Carol eventually hung up, sighing.

“He’s pissed. He thinks this is bad for my image.”

Darcy frowned. “There are worse people than _me_ to be photographed with.”

She deduced they may never have slept together. It was probably more like a brother-sister bond than anything sexual. If any kind of fling had occurred it was long over, anyway.

-

The first debate was in Nevada, and neither Wonder Bread nor Bran Muffin made any comment regarding Tony’s contribution. Neither acknowledged whether they were excited to debate with Tony.

They were pretending he didn’t exist, and Darcy wasn’t there for it. Inspired by her perusing Carol’s Instagram she decided to record Tony at his dining room table in the Manhattan mansion on her phone and upload it to the official Twitter account.

Tony sat with his hands folded, his face almost blank compared to his usual infectious smile while he stared straight into the camera.

“Congresswoman Gunn and Governor Ainsworth will be at the first Democratic debate held in Nevada this Thursday. You know that because they won’t stop talking about one another. They want to ignore the fact that I’m polling level to Congresswoman Gunn while Governor Ainsworth lags behind. These are facts.”

Tony tilted his head slightly.

“I’ll be in Nevada Thursday. I’m swinging by. This is your only warning.”

Darcy lowered her phone and Rhodey yelled behind her, “Game fucking on!”

Darcy pressed stop.

Tony smiled, himself again. “Keep that in.”

“Sure,” Darcy said, and Rhodey nodded at her. He was still fired up, the whole room that included most of Tony's staff still was, too.

“I’m done with these snobs,” Tony muttered while Darcy uploaded the video.

“We’re going to win,” she said, putting her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. She placed her hands on the table and leaned forward. “We’re going to win.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could quote [the whole song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eppa0RXRU-I). 
> 
> P.S. All hail GOOSE.


	5. Part Five: Nevada

 

 

 

 

 

_"Oh, I could bury you alive_  
_But you might crawl out with a knife_  
_And kill me when I'm sleeping_  
_That's why  
__I can't decide  
__Whether you should live or die..."_

  
\- "I Can't Decide" by Scissor Sisters

 

 

 

**Part Five: Nevada**

 

 

They touched down on Wednesday night in Nevada. Darcy traveled with her staff while Tony took his jet with Pepper, a move Darcy was ultimately thankful for when she decided to lay some ground rules.

She rose from her chair when they were roughly an hour away from Vegas, Cherie sitting beside her while everyone turned to look at their boss.

“We know the saying. What happens in Vegas…” Darcy began, letting the sentence trail off. “But keep in mind that we are here to run a campaign as well as get wasted if that’s our intention.”

There was a whoop and Darcy smiled.

“Just be ready for the hangover from hell if you don’t show up tomorrow at 8AM, because you won’t be excused. I will personally come to your hotel rooms and kick the door down if you don’t show your face.”

The smiles faded from some of the faces surrounding her.

“And if I can’t find you when I go looking… don’t bother coming back at all.”

She sank to her chair, and the conversations started up again, albeit hushed ones most likely about her. She didn’t mind. For the most part the people working for her were competent and wouldn’t fuck up. Nevada might weed out some of the slackers.

She’d been living out of suitcases for weeks but having a suite in a moderately priced hotel in Las Vegas was a distinct step up. The last time she was in this town was several years ago with some friends from college, and she spent the entire three days completely drunk.

Darcy settled in her room by turning on the TV and switching it over to a movie. _All the President’s Men_ had started and Darcy kept it on while she answered emails. She raided the mini bar before realizing there was no ice. She was not about to have scotch without ice so she pulled on her hoodie over her pajamas and trekked out into the hallway of her floor.

No ice in the machine, or maybe it wasn’t working. Darcy pondered before heading to the elevator. When she reached the lower floor she could hear music pumping from one of the rooms. Darcy walked toward the ice machine at the end of the hall and stopped in her tracks, seeing it was occupied.

“Oh,” she said, and Steve Rogers turned around with a bucket full of ice.

There was a brief flash of surprise before his eyes dipped to Darcy’s bare feet. Darcy should have known they would end up in the same building, and she wished she’d prepared for a moment like this.

“Hey,” he said, not at all pleased to see her. He nodded at her Hello Kitty pajama bottoms. “Big night?”

“Yeah,” Darcy replied, swinging her own empty bucket. “You get your own ice?”

For the first time he let out a short breath like half a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. You?”

“Of course,” Darcy replied, and she sidled up to the machine as he watched her. “You gonna be sharp tomorrow for me, Captain?”

“Will Stark be sharp?” Rogers deflected, and Darcy rose one eyebrow at him while chunks of ice fell.

“He’s in the Presidential suite sleeping as we speak,” Darcy replied smoothly, switching off the machine and turning to Rogers with her arms full.

“Cute,” he said. “Wishful thinking, though, Darcy.”

He’d never said her name before. She blinked, giving his outfit another glance over. He wore another plaid shirt tucked in his pants.

“Surprised you need a room. Thought you’d sleep in a pod.”

Calling him a pod person was not her best shot but it was worth it for the look on his face, a smile playing on his lips.

“Surprised you’re not spending Stark’s money on the slots downstairs,” he fired back, and Darcy broke into a smile.

He thought so little of her, and anyone who did tended to suffer for it one way or another. Darcy made sure of it.

“I might triple it by tomorrow,” she replied.

They walked together in silence. Steve paused at a door that had to be his room, and Darcy got to the elevators and pressed the button.

“You could –”

Darcy turned her head, narrowing her eyes.

“You could come in.”

He managed to finish the sentence the second time around and Darcy gave him a careful once over, trying to detect the irony in his tone.

He was serious. This was a white flag. Instead of opening his door, he waited. Darcy put down her bucket of ice and stalked over to him.

He moved aside or otherwise she would have walked into him, and Darcy smiled once more while Steve’s eyes widened. He couldn’t predict her and it was overwhelming to him.

“To your party?” she murmured, and he nodded. “No.”

They stared at one another for a few seconds. She could smell the body wash he used, the scent was ocean breeze. His eyes fell to her mouth before meeting her hard stare once more.

“Are you always like this?” he murmured, which Darcy didn’t expect.

She blinked.

“What, charming as hell?” she asked, and Rogers chuckled while he shook his head.

In that instance there was an absence, and Darcy knew that there had been a tension and now it was dissipated. She wondered what she was meant to do with that acknowledgement.

“Does everything have to be so hard?” he added, and Darcy gave a short laugh.

His eyes fell to her mouth again and she ran with it.

“I like hard.”

“I bet,” he threw back, and Darcy’s stomach flipped.

Her smile deepened and she waited for him to elaborate, daring him to cross a line. He took a deep breath through his nose without taking his eyes off her.

Disgust and attraction were two sides of the same coin, the same way that hate and love were so close. He thrilled her though she wanted to see him lose. She wanted him to feel defeated. She wanted her hands around his pretty neck on his pretty body.

“It’s boring if it’s easy,” she said, because she knew it to be true. “I don’t want an easy fight. Make it worth it.”

He didn’t say anything to that, he just leaned against the door and sighed.

Darcy walked off toward the elevator, picking up her bucket. She glanced back at Rogers who stared after her. His eyes never left her until she was out of sight, the elevator doors closing behind her.

Her heart was hammering.

-

Next morning Tony spoke at a union meeting outside one of the casinos and Darcy stood by with her aviator sunglasses on.

She felt disturbingly sober for a rainy Nevada day.

That evening she swapped her jeans for suit pants and a blouse, with one of the godawful lanyards around her neck that staffers had to wear.

Tony was at ease, like always. He sat while his makeup artist powered his face, Darcy standing nearby with Tony’s speech in her hands.

“They’ll mention your father,” Darcy warned, and Tony made a face.

“We’re prepared.”

“If you’re accused of standing on the shoulders of a giant to make yourself tall, you can’t throw some flippant line back about –”

“The shoulders of a giant?” Tony repeated, and Darcy stopped in her tracks. “I’ll use that.”

She tried not to sound exasperated but she union meeting made her question whether Tony was relateable enough to ordinary people. Wonder Bread had the advantage of coming from a poorer background, and Bran Muffin was also self-made.

“Tony,” Darcy began.

“I got one minute, Darce,” he said, and the makeup artist patted his shoulder before stepping back. “So how do I look?”

“Less like Liberal Pepé Le Pew,” Darcy said, sighing. She was referring to a Fox News anchor calling Tony that last week, which Darcy thought was weak.

Why did Conservatives always make a reference to some character that was some outdated stereotype?

“He’s adorable,” Tony said with a shrug, smiling ruefully. He reached out and touched her arm. “We’re gonna win.”

“We’re gonna win,” Darcy whispered, an echo. She let out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

They walked down the hallway, hushed voices making up the sounds of the crowds waiting in their seats.

Darcy could feel herself shaking as they made their way to the side of the stage where Gunn and Ainsworth stood with their staff, everyone in neat huddles like before a big game.

Pepper gave Tony a peck on the lips and whispered something in his ear and he nodded, his eyes briefly soft with fondness.

“Fifteen seconds.”

“Okay, cowboy,” Darcy blurted, regretting the nickname immediately.

“Really?” Tony said, and Darcy cringed.

“Fucking _do your job_ ,” she hissed, poking him with a finger on his chest.

“Darn tootin’,” Tony whispered back, and he was off.

He stood behind the other candidates. Darcy didn’t take much notice of the two other people, Huck and Turner, since they were hardly able to get a voice in since announcing their own intentions to run for the nomination.

Each candidate was announced over the speakers, and once Tony’s name was called Darcy gave a loud whoop, earning her a stare from Rogers who stood mere feet away from her.

She chose to ignore him until he started talking.

“We’re starting with gun control, you ready?”

They were both steadily clapping and Darcy sidled up to him, seeing he was wearing virtually the same outfit as yesterday but with a different colour shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“You better not be lazy about it,” she retorted. “You better mention a silver spoon in his mouth.”

“His had diamonds on his, Darcy,” Rogers replied, clapping harder as Gunn was the second last one to take her place at the podiums.

“Who would have ever figured someone as open-minded as you could be such a snob?” Darcy drawled, and she saw him turn his head toward her for a second in the corner of her eye.

The moderator began by explaining the rules, and the opening question was about gun control.

Darcy looked at Steve and smiled. He must have had something to do with that. She wondered who he knew to make that happen.

“Congresswoman Gunn, some would call your passion project gun control. Is that a fair statement?”

Gunn, whose hair was so glossy under the lights it made a white ring form around her crown of layered brown waves, smiled at the moderator.

“I would have to say yes, however, I’m perhaps not the most passionate person about guns here tonight.”

“Really?” Darcy said to Rogers. “That’s not creative.”

“You’re talking about Tony Stark,” the moderator said, and Gunn nodded.

“Mister Stark, what do have to say about this? Considering your past as Iron Man and as your role in the design, manufacturing and selling of weapons over the years?”

Tony smiled, turning his head to look Gunn in the eye.

“It’s not a secret. I used to profit from war,” he said, and Darcy bit her lip. “And then I took it upon myself to become a weapon. I know it’s not good politics to admit things –”

A few people in the crowd began to laugh.

“-but I know that people don’t like that I changed my mind. People wish I was one thing or the other. It bothers the right because I used to follow their values, and the left don’t fully believe I’m capable of being anti-gun.”

“You wrote that,” Rogers said, and Darcy looked up at him.

“Yeah.”

“It’s good.”

She glanced away back at Tony.

“I changed my mind, like humans do sometimes when they require new information,” Tony finished, no longer smiling.

There was a light applause. The moderator nodded. “Mister Stark, voters will want to know what made you change your mind.”

“I almost died,” Tony said. He looked down at his papers for a second before staring down at the moderator. “More than once. And I wanted a different legacy.”

Darcy clapped with everyone else, including Rogers.

For the next ninety minutes, the moderator asked questions on policy, including climate change. Darcy trusted Tony’s word when he told her weeks ago that they had a silver bullet. He just wanted to wait until after the first few debates to reveal it to the public. He had not told Darcy what it entailed. She was currently banking on his unlikelihood of being presidential, and how it worked well for his image.

“With closing statements, I would like each of you to state why you believe to be the best candidate for the Democratic nomination,” the moderator finally said, when things began to wind down.

Darcy had hardly spoken but felt another new rush of excitement. Beneath her nervousness she longed for a new challenge, and for Rogers to rise to it.

Senators Huck and Turner said they were true to their word, which made Darcy want to roll her eyes. Neither of them were ever to certain about their stances. Constant flip-floppers from what she could remember. Ainsworth pointed out his experience, and so did Gunn, except she added something else.

“I want to have a government that is not run by a group of billionaires,” she said, and there was another applause. “We will take back our decision-making from big business.”

Her own husband was head of a major pharmaceutical company, and Gunn herself was worth millions. The hypocrisy was staggering and people were eating it up.

“Mister Stark,” the moderator said, his hand sweeping. “Final statement.”

“I was excluded from the conversation before this debate, but I have solid plans for the future. Some might say I stand on the shoulders of a giant to make myself tall, but I have exceeded every achievement of my father Howard Stark’s life. I will push further, and I will do more. It would be a privilege to serve the American people again. This time it’ll just be from the White House.”

The crowd watching erupted in applause and Darcy closed her eyes, whispering, “Yes.”

He used her line, and it worked. She opened her eyes, watching as Tony broke into a smile as the cheering continued. Rogers began to clap along with them.

“It’s a two-person race now, Captain,” she said, and his eye caught hers.

She turned away and walked over to Pepper, who was grinning at Tony still standing at his podium. The redhead took her hand and squeezed.

“Well done, Darcy. He killed it. You wrote so well.”

“I wrote two lines of that,” Darcy replied, hearing the moderator conclude the debate, the candidates waving to the crowd.

Tony was talking to Huck, laughing along with him about something while they walked back, huddled together. Rogers nearby was congratulating Gunn.

“My God, Pepper Potts,” Huck boomed, bringing the redhead into a tight hug.

Darcy exchanged a glance with Tony, who pressed his lips together to avoid laughing at her.

Huck could easily make up three Peppers, he was that large and overbearing. He gave Darcy a quick glance.

“That felt somewhat humiliating but I will forgive you, Miss Lewis,” he said, giving her shoulder a pat that felt more like baseball mitt smacking her bare skin.

She winced, nodding. Huck moved on to find the rest of his staff and Darcy froze, seeing Congresswoman Gunn come over with Rogers in tow.

“Tony, a very pleasant evening. I was relieved we could keep it civil,” she said, shaking his hand.

She glanced at Pepper and smiled. Darcy stared, Gunn’s false niceness showing. She probably had Rogers there in case she forgot a name of someone she already met four times before.

She looked at Darcy, offering her hand. Darcy took it to be polite, feeling the soft weight of Gunn’s smooth hand in hers. Her scent was powdery and floral.

“I hope you found this a humbling experience overall,” Gunn continued, looking at Tony with her smile still plastered on her face. “Interesting to see how the other half lives.”

“Other half?” Darcy repeated before she could stop herself, Rogers reacting immediately by clenching his jaw while his eyes narrowed.

Gunn looked at Darcy again, the briefest frown detectable for a microsecond before melting away.

“I just meant this must be good for business.”

She still didn’t think Tony was any threat to her. She wasn’t even in the same room as him all evening, by the way she was acting. She was trying to gaslight her own opponent.

“Certainly,” Tony replied smoothly. “We’ll see you in California soon?”

“Of course,” Gunn replied, smile fixed. “I can’t wait to meet all your neighbors. Which property is that one? Your fourth? Fifth?”

“Eighteenth,” Darcy said, causing Gunn to lose focus again.

“Well. See you,” she replied, and she glided off.

Darcy was tempted to run after her to get the last word in. She seethed in silence as Tony and Pepper walked toward the other staffers. Darcy balled her hands into fists.

She forgot about Rogers, whose voice was suddenly in her ear, low and rough:

“That hard enough for you?”

He was up against her back for a lightning second before breaking away, walking off after Gunn while Darcy was left behind, breathing heavily through her nose.

 


	6. Part Six: HUMBLE.

_"My left stroke just went viral_  
_Right stroke put lil' baby in a spiral_  
_Soprano C, we like to keep it on a high note_  
_Its levels to it, you and I know, bitch, be humble."_

\- "HUMBLE." by Kendrick Lamar

 

 

**Part Six: HUMBLE.**

 

 

To say Darcy hit the ground running when she returned to headquarters would be a major understatement. When she stopped seeing red long enough to board a plane home, she sat staring with her laptop open while she flew, staring at a photograph of Congresswoman Gunn shaking hands with Governor Ainsworth. Gunn wore the same fake smile on her mouth that flashed right at Darcy just hours ago.

“I updated the schedule,” Cherie whispered, attempting to pass the paper to Darcy, who just kept staring straight ahead.

“I need to cancel whatever’s planned over the next three days.”

Cherie looked horrified. “Why?”

Darcy gave her a glance, seeing Cherie’s eyes were saucers.

“You need to stop.”

Cherie shrank back with the piece of paper, and Darcy could see she was quivering in her seat.

“You’re firing me.”

“No,” Darcy replied instantly, watching Cherie go from scared to confused and then back again. “But you need to stop. This line of work isn’t even dog eat dog, Cherie. It’s bigger than us and you need to stop.”

“Stop being scared?” Cherie asked, and Darcy shook her head.

Darcy rose a hand and a flight attendant came over.

“Vodka tonic. Double,” Darcy said. “Please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the attendant replied, and she was off.

Darcy didn’t speak while they waited, Cherie looking like she might cry. The attendant handed Darcy the drink and left them alone once more.

Darcy passed the drink to Cherie, who took it wordlessly, a couple tears escaping her large eyes.

“Drink.”

Cherie did as she was told.

“I’m gonna ask you something that you might not be able to answer.”

“What is it?” Cherie asked, her voice barely a whisper. She managed a few shaky sips of her drink, pressing a fist to her lips while she winced, the alcohol burning her little throat.

“Who made you think you deserve to be scared?” Darcy asked.

Cherie gulped. “I dunno.”

“It’s fine. Not all women know. But we’re made to think along the way that we have to ask for everything nicely, and it makes us scared,” Darcy said.

Cherie was only nineteen and maybe she needed more time to learn. She might after today put in a resignation, but Darcy had to make it clear that what she felt about herself wouldn’t always be the same.

“Not everyone can be like you,” she murmured. She sniffled, draining the rest of her drink as Darcy watched. “You’re not like other girls.”

“I’m precisely like other girls _because I am a girl_ ,” Darcy said, and Cherie met her eyes with a frown. “And I need you to be better because I know you can be.”

“I have an anxiety disorder,” Cherie whispered, like she was admitting to carrying a venereal disease.

“Yeah, no shit,” Darcy said, because she couldn’t help herself. “I’m guessing you haven’t been seeing your therapist lately.”

“I can’t afford one.”

“Bullshit,” Darcy said, and for the first time Cherie looked mildly irritated by her bluntness. “You’ll make a time and I’ll pay for it. You work for me.”

Cherie stared at her, her expression changing to anxious again. “That’s too much.”

“It’s not,” Darcy said firmly. She looked down at the paper they briefly forgot about. “Shred that. I have a new idea.”

-

Monica Rodriguez’s mom phoned Darcy back at headquarters, and by the end of the day Darcy had made contact with Monica’s cousin Miles.

The following afternoon they met at the non-profit in Queens. By some odd coincidence, they’d dressed the same, both of them wearing hoodies and ripped jeans with their headphones around their necks, their shoes beaten up and dirty.

“You’re not in trouble,” Darcy began, when she let Miles in the front door.

“Cool, ‘cause I’m not down with my dad finding out about –”

“The strictest of confidence,” Darcy said, her hand up to halt his emerging panic. “Monica said a cousin of hers was an artist, too.”

Miles nodded.

“And I figured since you don’t work at Subway you’re not a sandwich artist.”

He smiled, shaking his head. Darcy walked with him down the short hallway to her office, where a large sheet of butcher’s paper lay on the desk along with markers and pens.

“I want to commission a mural.”

“For Tony Stark?” Miles asked, his whole face lighting up.

Darcy smiled, nodding.

“Oh, _dope_ ,” he whispered. “You want me to do it?”

If he was the same kid she suspected him to be, the one whose anonymous Instagram followed Monica that was full of tags and other art sprayed all over Brooklyn.

“We’re gonna donate the mural once it goes viral. I’m going to a charity auction next week.”

Miles’ eyes widened. “But my parents –”

“They won’t know. You create, I’ll set up the mural somewhere after dark with my interns. Someone will find it.”

“Like Banksy?” Miles said, his grin somehow growing wider.

The kid was adorable. It was enough to make Darcy consider adoption, especially when he got to work, managing to create an outline in under two minutes.

“You listen to Kendrick, right?” Darcy asked, jutting her chin at Miles.

He looked up from his work and made a face. “Obviously.”

“Write _Humble_ ,” Darcy said, waving a finger. “Somewhere on there. Anything else you want is fine.”

Miles smiled again, causing Darcy to smile back.

The next day, Miles took over the office with pieces of wooden boards they managed to scrounge, and he slowly worked over each panel until a jigsaw puzzle of his mural formed.

She chose Humble because of Gunn’s remark about the debate being a humbling experience. Darcy was about to make it impossible for anybody to ignore Tony. She spent the last couple days with this secret, Cherie, Miles and Jane the only other people who knew about it.

Miles came after school and worked well past six o’clock. Darcy sent him home in an Uber, promising him a college recommendation and a Stark scholarship if he was eligible. She also handed him a Taco Bell voucher and put a finger to her lips.

“Just don’t tell my dad,” the teenager said, and Darcy smiled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Miles.”

Little Miles Morales, what a kid. He wasn’t actually little, he was taller than Darcy and she saw that his jeans were too short for his skinny legs. He was probably in the middle of his eighth grade growth spurt.

She waved as he left, and then skipped back in doors when his Uber turned the corner and left her sight.

-

Darcy’s whole body ached when she arrived in Manhattan the following morning to meet Tony at his place.

Happy opened her car door and she slowly climbed out, wincing. She did too much lifting last night, but it was worth it to see the news coverage when she walked into the living room.

She threw her bag on the floor with her eyes glued to the TV screen.

 _“The streets have spoken and so has Twitter. They want Tony Stark as the new President of the United States,”_ the anchor announced, and a photo beside their head on the screen showed Miles’ mural with a crowd of people standing beneath it taking selfies.

Tony walked into the living room with his eyebrows raised, pointing at Darcy.

“You.”

“I let myself in,” Darcy said breezily, ignoring the accusation.

“Public vandalism, who knew you had it in you?” Tony added.

Pepper walked in with Morgan in her arms, the two redheads smiling at Darcy. Morgan stretched out her arms and Darcy took her with a grunt, feeling the effects of last night more than ever on her joints.

“No worse than vigilantism, Tone,” Darcy said, Morgan grabbing a lock of her hair and holding it without tugging. The toddler mumbled something unintelligible.

“I could kiss you,” Tony said.

“Please don’t,” Darcy said, while Pepper laughed.

“I could kiss you, too,” Pepper said, and it was Darcy’s turn to laugh.

They watched as the anchor referred to a new Washington Post poll.

_“These numbers may no longer apply considering how the mural has exploded online. However, an insider source has reiterated that Tony Stark’s lack of experience and tactless showmanship is generally disrespectful to the occupation of Commander in Chief.”_

“What the fu- _heck_?” Darcy snapped, remembering she was holding Morgan at the last second.

“That wouldn’t be Huck, surely?” Pepper said.

Tony and Darcy exchanged a glance.

“Gunn,” they said in unison, and Darcy let out a sigh.

Congresswoman Gunn would plant that because she could get away with it. It was no insider. It would have been someone Steve Rogers employed, or even Rogers himself.

-

Darcy took three hours to get ready for the charity art show. She was no longer running on the high from Miles’ mural. The insider comment really irked her, but she wasn’t about to get caught up in the substance of the quote itself.

It meant things were starting to get desperate. Gunn only had so many tricks up her sleeve in between rallies, appearances and debates. In various polls, she and Tony were neck and neck, with Ainsworth lagging behind.

Huck dropped out, but he was a good sport about it. Darcy thought he was a good sport and that didn’t usually make one a good politician. He emailed her personally about how impressed he was by her campaign so far, and Darcy was fine with that until she read that he had a son who was single and looking. She grimaced, and promptly replied something along the lines of _thanks but no thanks_ , she was too busy and then she tried to forget about it.

It was Darcy’s night off but she knew it was still work. She expected to see everyone from the fundraising world including the political counterparts.

Miles’ mural was taken down and reassembled at the Stark campaign’s request. The money would be donated to the city.

Darcy took a bath, did a mask, trimmed her false eyelashes, washed her hair, dried her hair and checked her emails in between each task. She put her hair in hot rollers and got to work on her face, unwrapping new sponges and brushes Cherie picked up for her.

She painted her face, made sure to take her time with each step, and anxiety soon settled in her stomach. She hated the feeling of being nervous about looking like a fool. It was just makeup and a dress. She paused twice to settle her nerves, breathing slowly and staring at her half done face in the hotel mirror.

“I can do this. I can do this,” she whispered.

She leaned forward and began her cat eye, holding her breath. She leaned back, staring straight at herself.

She spoke clearly. “I can do this.”

When she arrived at the art gallery, people stared at her. She felt a surge of pride. She was no longer a fierce little person. No longer scrappy, but elegant. She could kill someone with a slow look from under her hooded eyes.

She was sultry. She was a femme fatale. She was ageless, elegant.

She was fucking _hot_.

She glided toward through the foyer, heads turning. One guy in a crowd of hipsters by the entrance blurted, “Oh, fuck” probably louder than he intended.

Darcy pretended she was in her own world, making her way through the crowd, the only redhead her beacon.

Pepper looked as if she was dripping in sapphires and glowing from within, her eyes wide. She broke into a smile, taking Darcy’s hand.

“You look incredible.”

“Oh, stop. Pot calling the kettle black and all,” Darcy said, trying to keep her voice low and husky.

It was a fun game, pretending to be someone like Mae West. Pepper’s whole face seemed to open up with joy like a flower to the sun.

Tony seemed to come out of nowhere, eyes going up and down Darcy’s body. She wore a deep maroon silk gown with a plunging neckline, her cleavage pushed together and up.

“Va-va-voom, Darcy,” Tony said, and he took her hand to kiss it in a deep bow.

Darcy smiled, feeling other people’s eyes still on her.

“Also, stop hitting on my wife,” Tony added, and Darcy tittered.

“No, shan’t,” she breathed.

She gave them both little waves as she moved on.

Everything was very tight and Darcy moved slower than usual as she made her way through the crowds, looking at the paintings. Artists from all over the state had donated works. Some were distinctly better than others.

People were stopping conversations as Darcy moved closer to them to look at the artworks. Groups would lower their voices, too obvious to not be talking about her.

Darcy saw Miles’ mural had the largest crowd surrounding it. She spied the familiar figure of Steve Rogers standing beside a blonde woman, his mouth by her ear as they stood in front of the mural.

Darcy moved on to another painting further down, where only a pair of elderly men stood. One of them turned and stared at Darcy briefly, eyes widening. He nudged his friend beside him, who had the same reaction to Darcy’s appearance.

“Ma’am,” one of them said, as they moved away. The other winked, and Darcy couldn’t help smiling, shaking her head as she was left alone.

The painting wasn’t a complex one. It was a portrait of a woman staring out a window with the wind blowing aside the curtain. She looked sad.

“You’re causing quite the commotion,” came a voice.

Darcy didn’t have to turn to see it was Steve Rogers. She recognized his voice now. She swallowed, still looking straight at the woman in the painting.

“Whatever could you mean?” Darcy said.

He was standing close to her, and Darcy’s eyes darted to see his hands were in his suit pockets.

He leaned in closer and Darcy stilled, waiting.

“You don’t always sign your work.”

She finally glanced at him, seeing his blue eyes trained on her. Her eyes fell to his Adam’s apple, then his sharp suit that hugged every contour.

“Neither do you,” she retorted.

She didn’t know how he figured her out, how he could possibly know about her being behind the mural. But she didn’t have proof pointing to him being the insider source, either.

“Hmm,” was his reply.

They shared another stare like the one in Nevada and Darcy felt heat begin to pool low in her guts. His eyes looked darker. What had she become to him? An enemy he wanted to devour?

“Your date,” Darcy said, regretting the acknowledgement instantly, as Rogers’ expression changed to something close to surprise. Darcy didn’t want to be admitting to anything.

Darcy looked away from him, watching the blonde woman talking to another attendee. Rogers’ eyes followed hers.

“Sharon,” he replied. “She’s a friend.”

Darcy glanced back at him. “She’s very… tall.”

Steve didn’t say anything to that, just took another step toward her, invading her space more than ever like he did the other day after the debate. Darcy could still remember the feel of his body pressed up against hers so briefly, the material of their clothes buzzing against her skin.

 She had nothing against Sharon but she was glad she was nowhere near them in that moment.

“You here all by yourself?” he asked, voice low like a rumble from within his broad chest.

Darcy barely nodded, keeping still.

“Seems like a recurring theme. You all by yourself,” he added.

That was enough to make Darcy narrow her eyes slightly, trying to think of a retaliation.

“There’s a big difference between lonely and being alone.”

She sounded too testy. She _hated_ how she sounded, like she was weak and in denial about it. To her relief, he didn’t tease her. He glanced at her bright red mouth.

“I think the men you’re around don’t know what to do with you and that bothers you,” he said.

Darcy stopped herself from visibly reacting, but she could feel her heartbeat quickening. She made a show of looking him up and down without moving her head.

“You think you know what you’d do with me?”

This had dangerous territory and Darcy knew it. She was close to throwing gasoline on a fire. It was Rogers’ turn to still while Darcy closed the gap between them.

His hands left his pockets and brushed her bare arms, and Darcy ignored the goose bumps that broke out all over her at his touch.

If he moved his head low enough they’d be kissing.

She looked deep into his eyes, her body alight and a neediness growing between her legs. She gave a crooked smile.

She whispered, “You’re gonna think about me later when you come.”

He looked like he wanted to kill her for that when she moved back, brushing her sweaty hands on her skirts. They said nothing else to one another as they separated.

She walked over to Miles’ mural, listening to the people talking about Iron Man and November 2020.

She turned her head for a second to check on Rogers, only to see his back to everyone with his hands back in his pockets.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The best of Mae West](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJS670okmZc)
> 
> You guyyyyyyys. I got butterflies writing this part.
> 
> thank u, next
> 
> Edit: The lovely Travelilah made me some graphics for this fic which I posted to my Tumblr [here](https://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/post/182472509643/skyforgedsoul-surprised-me-and-made-these)


	7. Part Seven: Howard and Goose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, this chapter is 6k words. I got a little out of hand. 
> 
> The positive response to this fic... I'm completely overjoyed that people are liking this AU.

_"Today, I'm thinkin' about the things that are deadly_  
_The way I'm drinkin' you down_  
_Like I wanna drown, like I wanna end me..."_

\- "bury a friend" by Billie Eilish

 

 

**Part Seven: Howard and Goose**

 

 

Darcy left the art gallery and went to the nearest hotel bar she could find, seating herself there and waiting for someone to sit in the empty stool beside her.

“Hey,” a dark man with large hands wearing a suit said to her, a drink already in his hand. “Can I sit here?”

“By my guest,” Darcy said, giving him a dazzling smile he reflexively returned.

He sat beside her, facing the bar while he sipped his scotch.

They were back at her hotel twenty minutes later. She chose him because he wore a wedding ring, and if he recognized her she wasn’t about to let her sexual exploits become ammunition for anyone else.

-

Darcy arrived at Tony’s Malibu mansion the next week with her head high. His approval rating in online polls had skyrocketed. Some people were still trying to downplay the significance of his influence all over social media.

“ _Not all these kids can vote_ ,” one commentator said with a shrug. What a jerk-off, Darcy thought while she watched the news clip in the Uber on her way over from the airport. His condescension would eventually bite him in the ass.

 _“They will next year. It is definitely plausible that they make the biggest impact in years,_ ” another commentator said with a pointing finger. “ _You can’t assume they’re not absorbing any of this.”_

Her car stopped suddenly and Darcy looked up, seeing the gate was closed.

“Drop me here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, and she grabbed her bags from the seat next to her and pushed her way out of the car, shutting the door behind her with an elbow.

The car reversed and departed while Darcy looked around. Tony’s place was on the edge of a cliff, and she could smell the sea air.

She squinted against the sun and looked around for a button to press. Without warning, the gates swung open and she jolted.

In the distance, she could see Pepper waving at the front door with Morgan in her arms.

Darcy smiled, waving wildly to get a reaction from the toddler. She made the trek up the driveway to the entrance. She was embarrassingly out of breath for such a short walk.

Pepper’s smile faltered and Darcy frowned.

“What is it?”

“Tony’s off today,” she whispered, Morgan busy with the stuffed chimpanzee in her hand, swinging back and forth.

“What happened?” Darcy asked, her breathing beginning to stabilize. “Is he sick?”

“I think it’s nerves.”

That had never been an issue before. Maybe because he was in Malibu after so long in New York.

“I’ll talk to him,” Darcy said, which seemed to be what Pepper wanted to hear.

They went inside, and Darcy was distracted by the waterfall as she set her bags down.

“Monkey, you want a shower?” Darcy said to Morgan, pointing to the flowing water.

“No!” Morgan cried, laughing at her silliness.

“You sure? Okay,” Darcy said, shrugging like the toddler was really missing out.

She did that little bit with Morgan to settle herself, to remind herself that they were going well. It was a marathon, and maybe Tony just had to slow down for a bit.

She went down the staircase to the basement where Pepper said Tony’s workroom was, Darcy’s footsteps echoing on the stairs while she descended.

She went to open the glass door and it began to beep, a red light beginning to flash while a disembodied voice snapped: “You are not authorized to access this floor.”

“Jesus Christ,” Darcy hissed, feeling like she’d just been electrocuted. “What the fuck?”

There came a muffled voice from beyond the glass door which Darcy recognised as Tony.

“JARVIS, let her in.”

The door clicked to indicate it was unlocked and Darcy pushed it open gingerly, her eyes still wide. All the lights were down as she made her way across the marble floors, looking around.

“I forgot you hadn’t met JARVIS before,” Tony said, and Darcy looked down to find him sprawled on the floor with a washcloth resting on his forehead. “He’s not installed in Manhattan.”

“You got a robot?” Darcy asked, taking in her horizontal boss.

“He’s an AI.”

“There’s not much of a difference to me,” Darcy fired back. “It’s creepy.”

“Apologies, ma’am,” came the voice again from above her head, and Darcy jumped.

“Jesus!” she yelled, “ _Stop.”_

“Now he’s just messing with you. JARVIS, don’t scare her off,” Tony called, moving the wash cloth from his head and letting it slap against the floor.

Tony took Darcy’s offered hand and she helped pull him up. Tony gave an almighty sigh and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“I have no idea what time zone I’m in,” he whispered, passing a hand over his face. “I snapped at Pepper before and I knew I sounded just like my dad –”

“You’re not your father,” Darcy interjected. “So can we skip this part and get to why you’re on the floor?”

Tony gave her a hard stare, but they both knew she had a point.

“Okay. The big guns.”

“What do you mean?”

Tony just stared at her for a few seconds while Darcy made an irritated face.

“You in some hurry?”

“No, just – you were on the floor.”

“Because there’s a lot riding on what I’m about to show you,” he retorted, and then he walked off with her following behind.

Darcy’s head whipped toward the gallery above their heads, her eyes bulging at the sight. Every one of Tony’s Iron Man suits stood in a row gleaming under the special lights as Darcy stopped in her tracks.

“Tony,” she murmured.

He stopped, turning. “Oh, right.”

He tugged her by the wrist and Darcy reluctantly followed, until they reached a cramped corner with a chair and a projector facing a wall.

Darcy pulled her arm away from him, scanning the open notebooks on the floor. She couldn’t make out anything relevant to her limited knowledge. She suddenly wished Jane were there, able to translate the equations for Darcy. Jane would love to be there, actually.

“You want to sit down?” Tony asked, and Darcy shook her head dumbly.

He set up the projector with a film and Darcy watched, seeing grainy footage appear against the cement wall.

It was Howard Stark, alive and well. The marker indicated it was the reel from the Stark Expo of 1974. Tony would have been five or so years old then.

“What is this?” Darcy said, and Tony held up a hand for her to be quiet.

Instead of snapping at him for telling her what to do, Darcy watched as Howard began to speak, occasionally flubbing lines and sighing in frustration.

The family resemblance was uncanny, but it wasn’t until Howard stopped midsentence to snap at the child behind him who’d wandered on-screen that she noticed how alike Morgan and Tony were. Darcy realized it was a little Tony Stark with how Howard reacted to him, telling him off for taking apart a piece of the Stark Expo model behind him when Howard wasn’t looking.

Darcy glanced at Tony who’d sat down in his chair. His expression was unreadable, but Darcy was all too aware of the possibility that Tony could process this badly.

“I’ve seen this before,” he said, and Darcy only blinked in response.

The footage cut to Howard sipping a full glass of scotch on the rocks. He looked so much like Tony and it had to hurt.

“Tony, I don’t like this.”

She didn’t sound like herself when she spoke. These weren’t even her own memories to be concerned about. She was willing to admit that she was not just Tony’s campaign manager anymore.

“It’s okay, he makes a joke about his ass in a second.”

_“…. I would like to personally show you… my ass.”_

Darcy didn’t laugh, seeing Howard turn his behind toward the camera when he flubbed another line. She looked at Tony again, watching him watch the wall.

_“Tony…”_

Darcy looked up and saw Howard was looking right at the camera. His face had changed, completely sobered and intently staring down the lens.

_“…you're too young to understand this right now, so I thought I would put it on film for you.”_

It was like Darcy was frozen. She’d fallen into a dream. She was inside the film, staring Howard Stark down with her chest tightening around her hammering heart.

She swallowed as Howard gestured behind him at the model.

_“I built this for you. And some day you'll realize that it represents a whole lot more than just people's inventions. It represents my life's work. This is the key to the future. I'm limited by the technology of my time, but one day you'll figure this out.”_

There were panning shots of the model. The camera was back on Howard, a closer shot.

_“And when you do, you will change the world. What is and always will be my greatest creation... is you.”_

Darcy blinked furiously, the footage abruptly cutting off, the projector ticking as the film ran out. Tony got up and switched it off, looking at Darcy.

“That line, about standing on the shoulders of a giant to make myself tall? I felt like that really hit home,” he said, his eyes shining.

“Tony – ”

“It was an element,” he continued, tapping the cover of the miniature arc reactor Darcy could see glowing beneath his shirt. “I was able to synthesize it here a few years ago.”

She needed something explained, she felt overwhelmed by everything she’d just witnessed – a secret message from beyond the grave with a declaration that could not be said to Tony while his parents were still alive.

“I nearly died three times,” he said, voice wavered a little at the end. “The first time was when I was a hostage in a cave. The second was Obadiah.”

Darcy nodded, gnawing at her lip again.

“The third was when I was dying of palladium poisoning because of my suit,” Tony said.

“You were dying when you were Iron Man?” Darcy said, shocked and appalled. “What? Why did no-one know that?”

“I wasn’t dealing with it well,” he replied, though they both knew it was a poor excuse. “Pepper and Rhodey found out eventually but by then I found this –”

He gestured to the film in the projector. “And I found the old model at the offices.”

“This is your clean energy plan. This new element.”

“It’s extremely powerful, Darcy,” he said.

Darcy glanced around. “It powers this house.”

“Yes.”

“And your suits.”

“Yes.”

Darcy let out a disbelieving laugh and took a step back, trying to process all that she’d learned.

“It’s a smoking gun.” She nodded at her own words, breaking into a smile. “You could win a Nobel Prize for this, Tony. You could save millions of people.”

“I didn’t want you to think that I did this to become President. I want to change the world. I don’t want some inhabitable mess left behind for you and Morgan and _your kids_ to try to survive in.”

Darcy ducked her head, nodding. “Yeah. I think we can make this work for us.”

Tony smiled, and Darcy smiled back.

-

Darcy was helping feed Morgan while watching TV, the waterfall a light background sound as Pepper was out and Tony was downstairs.

“Am I your au pair, Monkey?” Darcy said, handing the toddler another piece of bread slathered with cream cheese. “Do you know what an au pair is?”

Morgan took no notice and shoved the bread in her mouth, chewing and sucking and Darcy shook her head at her. She was trying to convince her to try the green beans, a blunt little fork in her hand, when all Morgan really wanted was processed carbs and dairy.

Darcy sighed. “Yep, I’m your au pair.”

The anchor caught Darcy’s interest when they mentioned Congresswoman Gunn and her tour of a union made up of mostly Latino workers.

“And what’s your name?” Gunn asked a man who stood shorter than her. Darcy tutted, hearing the condescension in her tone.

“Carlos Reyes.”

“Carlos Reyes, it’s lovely to meet you. Have you worked in California long?”

Darcy bit her lip, frowning. Carlos nodded.

“Yes, I’ve lived in Malibu for twenty years.”

The reporter beside Congresswoman Gunn holding the microphone for viewers to hear the exchange pulled it back, smiling.

“Mr. Reyes, do you know who you want to vote for in November 2020?”

Carlos nodded, and then smiled. “Mister Stark. He bought strawberries off me with an Omega watch a few years ago.”

Darcy’s mouth fell open as she dropped Morgan’s fork.

“Huh,” Darcy managed to say, as Congresswoman Gunn froze mid-smile, her eyes betraying her.

The reporter looked surprised but happy with this potential story.

“My goodness, is that true? He gave you a watch?”

“Yes, and I used it to pay for a new truck.”

Darcy began to laugh in disbelief, scrambling to retrieve Morgan’s fork before she washed it and returned it to the toddler.

Morgan swallowed her bread and whined.

“Alright, Monkey.”

She lifted her out of the chair and marched back to the kitchen with the toddler on her hip, grabbing the jar of cream cheese from the refrigerator and a spoon from a drawer.

She stuck the spoon of cream cheese in Morgan’s mouth and watched her pupils dilate as she sucked happily in silence. She carried the toddler downstairs.

“Tony.”

He looked up from his papers and frowned.

“Quick question. Few years back you bought strawberries with a Rolex watch?”

Tony looked toward the ceiling, mentally scanning for the memory.

“Yeah. And it was an Omega.”

“Oh, yeah, he said that,” Darcy whispered, remembering Carlos’ unbridled joy in Gunn’s face.

Darcy began to laugh and Tony looked somewhat alarmed.

“Uh-oh, Monkey. You broke Darcy.”

“Uh-oh,” Morgan parroted.

Darcy kept laughing, until she remembered Twitter. She groaned, putting Morgan down for a second to get out her phone.

The toddler stumbled toward her father, who picked her up and set her on his knee, handing her one of his many pens as Darcy scrolled.

“Twitter’s saying we planted the strawberry farmer story.”

“We didn’t?” Tony said, watching as Morgan scrawled across a blank page with her other hand holding the spoon from earlier.

“No, I would have said.”

Darcy’s phone vibrated and she saw Steve Rogers’ name pop up.

“Who’s calling?” Tony asked, a knowing tease to his tone.

“Don’t,” Darcy muttered, turning her heel and unlocking the phone.

She put it to her ear as she stepped outside the glass door and took the stairs two at a time.

“I had nothing to do with it,” she said, before Rogers could get a word in.

She reached the waterfall and waited for his rebuke.

“I find that hard to believe. First the mural, why not this, too?”

“ _How_ do you know about that?” Darcy snapped, and she regretted the outburst, sighing a second later.

There was a pause on his end, a rustling of papers.

“I know the kid’s uncle. Miles’ uncle,” Rogers said, sounding less angry. “It’s a sensitive situation.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Darcy hissed. “His dad is a cop, you’d know that if you knew his uncle. I found Miles through my non-profit.”

“I haven’t told anyone,” he replied. He sighed. “Darcy, I –”

“You want to tell me how to run my own campaign? _Fine_ ,” she snapped, before he could start again. If she could see herself, Darcy was sure the vein on her neck would be popping. “But I should be able to ask you why you’re campaigning for someone like Miranda Gunn in the first place.”

“The Congresswoman is a highly experienced, intelligent –”

 “Oh, _don’t_ ,” Darcy snapped. “She’s got you trained well. It’s probably not a hard transition from the Army to her regiment –”

“Enough.”

“I think my point is valid.”

“I said, _enough!_ ”

Darcy froze, Rogers’ voice sharp and cold. She sucked in a breath, glad they weren’t in the same room while they sparred. She blew out her mouth slowly, looking at the waterfall to take her mind off of her sudden fear. She provoked him.

“I just don’t get it, Captain. I don’t know if I could live with myself. I don’t think she’s worth it.”

She watched the water fall and waited, hearing his breathing.

“Tony Stark will not be President. He won’t get the nomination.”

“Why do you say that?” Darcy asked, and she recognized that there was a hurt in her tone. “If he’s not given a fair shot, it’s not a democracy, which is what we both want –”

“He won’t… _get it_ , Darcy. They won’t let him.”

Darcy detected no glee in his voice. He almost sounded like he pitied her, which was somehow far worse.

“I’ll see you, soldier. Keep your boots shined.”

“Darcy –”

She cut him off, hanging up and breathing heavily, her grip on her phone tightening while the water fell behind her.

-

They postponed announcing Tony’s clean energy policies. Darcy didn’t want to produce a smoking gun until she was certain that what Rogers was said was true, that they were never going to be granted the nomination despite an overwhelming popularity.

“I can’t believe he would admit that,” Jane said to Darcy when they finally met up again another week later. “He could be fired if Gunn found out that he told you that.”

“I guess I’m just part of a conspiracy within the conspiracy,” Darcy said, feeling her heart sink like a stone with the look on Jane’s face.

She was disappointed. Her friend always trusted the democratic process, and now the illusion was shattered. Darcy was finding it hard to be optimistic, despite the fun she had on the road and despite the joy she got from the songs she picked for Tony’s rallies.

“We got invited to a party,” Jane said, and Darcy looked up from her phone and nodded. “It’s not charity, it’s Carol Danvers.”

“Oh,” Darcy replied, feeling herself smile despite the dampened mood. “Really?”

She’d texted her almost every day but the Senator’s schedule was about as crazy as Darcy’s so there was little space for overlapping.

“She has an end of winter party,” Jane said, making a face. “It’s not really my thing. Besides, I’m booked with a convention in Delaware.”

“I’ll go,” Darcy said, scrolling through her calendar on her phone. “It’s the Spring Solstice?”

She had to move some things around to accommodate for an overnight stay in Chicago but Darcy managed to RSVP. Carol immediately called her.

“Darcy! You really coming?”

“Yeah, you still freezing your balls off there?” Darcy replied, their little joke they shared every time they connected.

Carol giggled. “Oh, my God. I’m so happy. You get to meet Goose. There’s gonna be so many people there. We’ll watch _Top Gun_!”

Darcy still had to wrap herself up in layers from the airport to Carol’s condo in Chicago, shivering despite the heater in her taxi. She’d gone from New York to Malibu to the bleakest of winter in the space of three days.

She made it to Carol’s apartment building and rang the doorbell. She was buzzed inside, wrenching the door open and taking off her scarf as she walked through the lobby, hearing the music upstairs.

She got to Carol’s front door and knocked once before it was ripped open, Carol beaming at her with her arms wide.

“Oh, my God, Darcy!”

Maybe she’d already had a few, but Carol was generally very enthusiastic around her anyway so Darcy gave a squeal in return and dove into her arms, laughing.

“You sure it’s spring, Carol?”

Carol grinned, pulling her by the hand down the hallway, taking her coat from her and showing her where the bathroom was.

“I got lots and lots to drink and eat.”

Darcy smiled as she was dragged along. Carol’s whole place was covered in pictures of herself with her friends and family, including the photo she took of herself and Darcy the day they met for the first time.

Carol led her into the living room, where Darcy could see the TV was playing _Top Gun_ , as promised. There was a group of a dozen or so people in their thirties and twenties sitting or standing around chatting and laughing.

“Everyone! Everyone,” Carol yelled, causing eyes to settle on her. “This is Darcy. Darcy, this is everyone.”

Darcy felt herself blush, raising one hand. “Hello, everyone.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, as many of the strangers started to laugh or give her waves in return with kind smiles. She took the beer Carol handed her, her friend’s hand on the small of her back not-so-subtly pushing her toward some men with their own drinks.

“How’s the campaign?” one said, his eyes lit up and eager. “How many more months until Iowa?”

“Christ, don’t remind me,” Darcy replied, feeling herself start to loosen up.

The men laughed, falling back into their conversation from before Darcy’s entrance. She nodded, trying to follow their back and forth. She was suddenly distracted by a streak of orange, which had to be the cat.

“Excuse me,” Darcy said, making a dash for Goose who’d run down the hallway.

She was like Alice running after the white rabbit, cornering the cat at the front door.

“You scared ‘cause there’s so many people, huh?” Darcy murmured, scratching Goose behind the ears.

He began to purr, rubbing up against her arm. She scooped him up and walked back down the hallway, to the door that lay ajar. It had to be Carol’s room.

Darcy pushed inside and froze, accidentally squeezing Goose in her arms too tight and making the cat struggle, wriggling his body until he fell to the floor on all-fours. Steve Rogers stared at her with wide eyes, sitting on the edge of Carol’s bed with a beer in one hand, his phone in the other.

“Unbelievable,” he said, and Darcy kept as still as possible.

Why hadn’t she thought of him being here? The Gunn schedule mirrored Tony’s, and she just assumed Rogers was too busy to be anywhere near Illinois. Except that had to be why here was there, too. He never considered her showing up to his old friend’s place.

Darcy wanted to say something, anything. She wanted him to stop looking at her like he couldn’t stand the sight of her. It was like whiplash, to feel so charmed by Carol a minute ago only to go back to the weird psychological fuckery that was her rivalry with Steve Rogers.

She wished dearly that she had been prepared for this. The last time he saw her she looked and felt completely different. She had only known that she’d be meeting new people that her brand _new_ friend Carol liked to hang out with. Darcy didn’t care if people liked her at the art gallery, but here in Chicago she cared if there was a blow-up for everyone to witness.

“I brought Goose in here since he looked scared,” she said, blinking a few times.

Rogers’ face slackened and he looked away. “Oh. Yeah, I came in here to make a call and he ran out.”

Darcy glanced at Goose, who’d jumped onto the bed sat beside Rogers with his paws tucked under his body.

“I’ll go,” Darcy said, jutting her thumb behind like she was in some terribly acted elementary school play. “I’ll leave.”

She turned and nearly walked straight into Carol, who stood there with wide eyes.

“I should have said he was coming,” she said, and Darcy tensed, hoping no-one noticed.

“It’s fine – I said I’d leave.”

She was about to reach frantic proportions if she didn’t get out of the bedroom as soon as human _fuckingly_ possible.

“You just got here!” Carol said, “When did you last eat?”

Darcy knew she ate cereal before she left Malibu. She shared it with Morgan. She hadn’t had anything for several hours, using her time during her flight to catch up on emails.

“I ate,” Darcy lied, and Carol did not looked convinced.

“You like Italian?” Carol said, “I’ll order Italian.”

“There’s tons of food,” Rogers said, confused but with a smile playing on his lips, and suddenly Darcy felt as though she was trespassing.

“Well, I feel like Italian,” Carol retorted, eyebrows hiked. “You want tiramisu?”

“You _know_ I do,” Rogers muttered.

Carol stared him down for a few seconds before she turned her head to Darcy. “Can you guys call a truce? Just for tonight?”

Darcy and Rogers locked eyes.

“Yeah,” they said in unison, Darcy’s eyes darting away to Goose who’d closed his eyes.

“Cool,” Carol said, pleased. “I’m gonna order.”

She walked out, leaving them alone once more, Darcy’s pulse quickening. She didn’t know why someone else acknowledging their fighting made her feel exposed. Had Steve spoken about it with Carol, and how she spoke to him at the art gallery? He looked like he wanted to strangle her when she told him he’d think about her when he came.

“I’ll behave if you do,” Darcy said, and she looked up from Goose to Steve, who was looking at her the entire time since Carol left them.

“Somehow I doubt that,” he said, voice low. “You tend to bring it out of me.”

Darcy wondered if Carol could be lingering in the hallway eavesdropping but she heard her yell out ‘meatballs!’ in the living room while laughter chorused in the background.

Rogers brought her back to the bedroom with his words.

“You alone again, Darcy?”

She locked eyes with him. “Where’s Sarah?”

“Sharon,” he corrected, never missing a beat. “My mom’s name was Sarah.”

Darcy said it to piss him off, not knowing about his mom at all. The ‘was’ stuck out, making her feel as though she’d gone too far.

He didn’t seem too badly affected by it, in fact he looked close to triumphant at catching her off-guard, his eyes brighter as he stared at her.

“Where’s Sharon?” Darcy asked.

“Home, I’m guessing. Back in New York.”

She was his friend, then. Or, at least, not a girlfriend. He seemed like the type of person to deliberately make that distinction. No blurred lines with Captain Rogers, unless it came to Darcy with her wicked mouth and petulance. No wonder she drove him up the wall.

“Nothing to say to me, Darcy? Nothing cheeky?”

She felt a heat in her gut at his choice of words. He sounded like a school teacher telling her off. It only made her want to piss him off even more.

“Why? I thought you might want me to stop being cheeky,” she threw back, feeling her face betray her with a blotchy blush forming under the bedroom light.

“No, I don’t,” he said, and Darcy just stared back at him.

She was the one to break away, knowing she lost. She was furious, stalking back into the living room and throwing herself down on one of the couches, her eyes glued to the movie.

She didn’t take in anything, her mind whirling, searching to find some way to get back at him, fast. He came into the room with his beer still in his hand. She gave him a quick glance but he wasn’t looking her way, instead laughing at something a girl said to him while he made his way across the room.

He landed beside Darcy on the couch, his arm along the back of it, sipping his beer as he stared straight ahead.

Darcy chose to do the same, the faces on the screen a blur. And then she felt something against the back of her neck, and she shivered without thinking.

His fingers were resting against the nape of her neck, hidden away from everyone else’s view.

Darcy felt a rising panic, wondering what to do. She was so angry. She could turn around slap him, smack him across the face, make his nose bleed. It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t do the same to him without it being noticed. She couldn’t make him feel powerless. She was so angry she began to shake, but she knew she was also afraid, her eyes still stuck on the pixels ahead.

She finally remembered to breathe, and his hand was gone, slipping away.

She didn’t dare move. She even stayed still when Carol sidled over, asking if she could squeeze between them. She managed it easily, a bowl full of spaghetti and meatballs in her lap.

God, Darcy loved Carol. It was shame Steve Rogers was her friend, too. She made everyone so comfortable, her charisma like a constant soft glow wherever she went.

Eventually, Darcy managed to really watch the movie, laughing at some of Carol’s jokes with the rest of them. She managed to push aside her fear and fury as she kept drinking, feeling pleasantly buzzed by the time people started to leave.

Rogers helped put out the garbage while Carol chatted with Darcy. Darcy held Goose in her arms, liking the warm and fuzzy feeling the beers had given her. She probably should have eaten more to compensate, but her stomach had been in knots when Carol first offered her some pasta.

She ate a couple bites of leftovers as she watched Rogers and Carol talk about how 2020 was meant to go for the senator.

“I’ve got my crack team. Don’t need you racing back every time I sneeze to make sure I’m fine,” Carol said. Darcy sat down on the couch, stroking Goose’s back while she listened.

She had to be drunk because she didn’t mind when Steve sat beside her with Carol on her other side. This time, Darcy was the in the middle while they talked at each other.

“What’s your slogan?”

“Haven’t decided,” Carol said, reaching to touch Goose, the ginger cat stretching and loving the attention.

“What was that other one you said?” Darcy asked, trying to remember. “It sounded like the motto from _Gladiator_.”

“It was ‘Honor and Perseverance’,” Rogers said, and Darcy snorted. “ _Gladiator_ ’s was ‘Strength and Honor’.”

Carol began to giggle and Rogers rolled his eyes, before checking the clock on his phone.

“I should go. Need to be up early.”

“You know his morning routine, Darce?” Carol asked, giving Darcy a conspiratorial wink.

“No, what is it?” Darcy asked, her tongue a little too heavy to work with. She gave Rogers a glance, seeing he was grumpy, his mouth shut.

“He gets up at four _every morning_ because he hates himself.”

Rogers blinked at Carol. “I get up at four so I can be at the gym by five. Then I get to work by seven.”

Darcy made a face at Carol, as if Rogers wasn’t there. “That’s sad.”

“It’s not sad – it’s – whatever,” he snapped, getting up from his seat and making the couch dip for a second. He glanced at Darcy. “You coming, too?”

“You can share a cab,” Carol said.

“I’ll get an Uber,” Darcy blurted, and Rogers shook his head.

“You can’t be standing in the street waiting for a car in the dark.”

He made a fair point but Darcy rolled her eyes, and relented, nodding.

“I’ll see you soon, I hope,” Carol said, taking Goose from Darcy and giving her friends each a kiss on the cheek. “Both of you.”

They waved goodbye and Darcy walked out while she pulled her coat on clumsily, and then Steve opened the door for her, letting her through first into the frigid night.

The cold hit Darcy like a smack in the face and she shivered, teeth chattering as she huddled several feet away from Steve as he stuck his hand out while he stood on the curb.

“Come here,” he called to her, but Darcy shook her head while she shivered.

Rogers gave a sigh, and his breath could be seen in front of his perfect face, and Darcy just scowled at him as he moved toward her and grabbed her by the elbow.

“Spring Solstice, my ass,” he muttered under his breath grumpily.

A cab finally pulled up and Rogers opened the door, Darcy practically diving in and sitting as close to the window on the other side as possible. The heating was on full blast and Darcy rubbed her hands together.

“Where you headed?” the driver asked.

“Your stop first,” Rogers said, glancing at Darcy.

“I’m staying at the Lex.”

“Alright,” the driver replied, peeling off into the night. He was speaking to someone on his Bluetooth, while Rogers and Darcy sat in silence.

It felt awkward to Darcy and she wished she was back to being livid. If she was out for blood, the possibility of what Steve Rogers thought of her wouldn’t be a concern. She founded herself wanting to know what he was thinking as he stared out the window.

Her hotel was ten minutes away and Darcy checked her phone for new emails. Rogers seemed to be doing the same, but then he sighed and put his device away in his coat pocket.

“You really get up at four every morning?” Darcy asked, and his eyes swiveled over to her.

“Yeah.”

“Is that an Army thing, or just a you thing?” she said, edging on teasing.

“Just a me thing,” he replied with a sigh. He turned around to face her properly and Darcy wished she hadn’t chosen to engage.

“You got three hours of sleep then, Cap,” she said, eyes averting.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Rogers spoke again.

“How come you never call me ‘Steve’?”

Darcy blinked a few times, wondering how to answer that. Because she liked being a pain in the ass? Because he let her call him anything but his first name?

“I called you Steve.”

“ _Once_ , on the phone,” Steve retorted, and Darcy dared to glance at him and got his intense blue-eyed stare for it. “And then you showed up at my office and turned my life upside-down.”

Darcy caught her breath, and Steve broke eye contact, looking down.

He gave a short laugh that sounded closer to sad than happy. “Fuck, I’m drunk.”

He didn’t seem to be, just a little off his game. Darcy couldn’t take her eyes off him as he attempted to gather this thoughts.

“Sometimes I wish we could be friends,” he mumbled, and Darcy frowned.

She wasn’t about to feel sorry for him when he was the one who secretly touched her neck on the couch without warning.

“We’re not going to be friends,” she said, hoping that sounded as cold as she wanted it to be.

They locked eyes again and Darcy stared him down, wanting to be as mad as before. Darcy kept her breathing even as she added:

“You don’t want to be friends.”

He looked at her mouth, giving himself away like always.

The taxi slowed and Darcy looked out the window. Before Rogers could object, she handed the driver more than enough money to cover her trip as well as Rogers’. She slipped out of the cab and stalked around to the hotel’s entrance, not looking back.

She wasn’t that drunk. Or maybe the cab drive over was just sobering enough to make her remember she hated Steve Rogers.

She rode up the elevator, her thoughts going back to the couch and how the heat of his body, the touch of his fingers was enough to make her shiver. And then he wanted to be _friends_? Like she was supposed to make him feel better?

How dare he?

She got to her room and pulled off her coat, tossing it on a chair as she walked into her bedroom. Everything felt like a blur and she could feel a burning all over her.

She fell onto her bed with her phone in one hand, the other going to the button on the front of her jeans.

She felt around and sure enough she was wet, fingers slick as she began to explore, breath hitching as she thought of his blue eyes. She clutched her phone, using the one hand to unlock it and then go through her contacts.

She pressed Rogers’ number, pressing the speaker button before letting her phone fall to the space on the covers by her neck.

“Darcy?”

He answered after only a couple rings, and she closed her eyes, gasping. She remembered his stare in Nevada, the way his eyes lingered on her feet. He thought he could strip her bare. He thought he could touch her without consequences.

He didn’t hang up, didn’t ask what was happening. Darcy figured her moan was enough of an indication. She could hear him breathing on the other end of their call.

She remembered his body hard and dominating against her back at the debate, the way his voice sounded triumphant and knowing. She remembered his hands on her arms at the art gallery, his eyes when she made him powerless with desire.

He must hate having to hear her bringing herself off, not able to do it himself, not able to rip the orgasm from her that was bubbling beneath the surface every time she saw his face. 

“Oh, fuck – _Steve!”_

She clenched on nothing, her fingers soaked and her voice hoarse as she cried out.

With that she’d won, and she hang up the phone a second later.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Part Eight: The Wife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a time jump. I'm about to yeet all your expectations of UST but things are about to take a turn. Please don't hate me.

_"But I got my fingers laced together and I made a little prison_  
_And I'm locking up everyone that ever laid a finger on me..."_

\- "Yellow Flicker Beat" by Lorde

 

 

**Part Eight: The Wife**

 

 

Darcy walked along the hallway to her office, her hand trailing along the wall as she chewed the last of her Danish. They upgraded to another building closer to the Stark mansion, which meant a bigger headquarters to roam around in.

As more money poured in the more Darcy had excuses to avoid Congresswoman Gunn and her campaign entirely, which suited her just fine.

The only major thing that happened was Darcy turning 29. Her June birthday was mostly uneventful until the headquarters surprised her with a sheet cake at lunch before they returned to their phones.

Summer in New York was hard but the heat was the least of Darcy’s concerns. She worked almost twenty-hour days constantly and she kept checking her phone to see if there was anything Steve Rogers had sent her. She grew accustomed to no longer being reminded he was there when a good story came up about Tony.

Morgan turned three and Darcy got her a miniature metallic Jeep that she sped in around the Malibu property while Darcy recorded her on her phone. The kid was so much like Tony but with Pepper’s looks. She was able to count to 100 and could read whole sentences.

It was November and she returned to her office where Pepper waited for her, the blueberry taste of her snack still on her tongue.

“Monkey misses you,” Pepper said by way of greeting, and Darcy nodded. “You still taking her to the movies next week?”

“If Happy’s okay with it,” Darcy replied, setting her coffee down.

Happy had kind of gone overboard with what he considered safe, and more than once requested Darcy send him her mail from her own mother to make sure nothing deadly could possibly happen. Whenever Darcy told Happy to dial it back he mentioned Reagan and JFK and Darcy had to hand over her care packages full of jars of pickles and Sudoku books, only for them to be sent back to her a week later with ‘all clear’ written across a piece of paper in Happy’s scrawled hand.

“So,” she said, flipping through the calendar. “It’s close to Iowa so we want a final push for women and Tony.”

“I wonder how many of his exes will vote Republican next year,” Pepper muttered, her lips quirking as she followed Darcy’s hand running down the list of dates.

“From what I’ve heard, a lot of them,” Darcy said, and Pepper chuckled. “We’ll want the childcare plan pushed within the next month.”

“This is it, huh? The wife’s passion project to show Tony Stark’s for women,” Pepper said, sounding more tired that Darcy expected.

Usually, Pepper was a better spokesperson for Stark 2020 than Tony was. She could work any room, make any centrist an immediate fan. Darcy credited Pepper for a lot of Tony’s popularity especially in the South.

There was a knock on Darcy’s door and she looked up from her calendar to see Cherie with a small smile on her face.

“Steve Rogers to see you,” she said, and Darcy felt her pen fall from her hand onto the desk with a clatter.

She recovered it, Pepper watching her.

“Send him in.”

Cherie left and Pepper whispered, “Why is _he_ here?”

“I don’t usually like to ask that when it comes to him,” Darcy replied, biting her lip.

They only had to wait another ten seconds when Rogers walked in, the two women standing.

“Ms. Potts,” he said, offering his hand, which Pepper shook with a big smile on her face.

“Steve, it’s been so long. How’s everything?”

Rogers didn’t look Darcy’s way, which gave her the chance to take him in. His fitted navy fitted suit was immaculate, and his hair was darker. He looked like he was older and Darcy wondered if she was the same.

“Can’t complain. Iowa coming up. All uphill from here.”

Maybe he said that to himself at night in the mirror before he went to sleep. Darcy watched as he smiled at Pepper and then glanced right at Darcy, pinning her there.

“I need to discuss something with Miss Lewis.”

Pepper nodded, glancing from Rogers to Darcy. “I’ll come back. I haven’t had lunch.”

Darcy half wanted to ask her to stay, but Rogers gave his thanks and Pepper departed.

There was a silence that settled over them as they were left alone, the hum of the office outside the only sign of life. He took the time to turn his body toward her, his hand touching his tie before looking at her in the eye.

He looked like one of the hotshot lawyers she used to fuck in between work hours during her internship years ago. Some of them had called her up since she became Tony’s campaign manager and she turned them all down.

“How are you?”

A stupid question to ask, since he probably didn’t care. Darcy knew he didn’t want to care, at least. She wondered how he was meant to recover from getting a call like the one she made to him months ago. She was surprised she managed to stay relatively calm being alone with him again.

“Can’t complain. Iowa coming up. All uphill from here,” Darcy replied, repeating his own words to Pepper moments before.

He didn’t rise to the bait for once. “This _is_ about Iowa.”

“What?” Darcy asked, and she tried to read his expression but failed.

He licked his lips and she blinked at him, waiting.

“Stark’s had a good run.”

Darcy felt something acidic stirring in her guts at his words. He must have rehearsed this on his way there.

“It was improbable but awe inspiring. People will talk about your campaign forever.”

If that was supposed to comfort her it failed completely. Darcy just felt her face become hard as stone.

“Except?” she prompted, and he swallowed.

“It’s time to step aside.”

Darcy stared, only to let out an exasperated laugh as she realized he wasn’t joking. The acid inside her began to rise with each passing second.

“Fuck _no_ ,” she growled, and Rogers’ expression changed to something like a smirk and Darcy hated him for it. She hated his handsome smart-ass face.

“I came to offer you VP,” Rogers added, as if her outburst had not occurred. “He’s gonna step aside and take this.”

“I wouldn’t let him even if he wanted to!” Darcy yelled, narrowing her eyes.

She didn’t care if all of the office and New York state heard her. He wasn’t going to get away with this. Gunn wasn’t getting away with this.

“I can’t believe I ever considered Tony couldn’t win all those months ago!” she added. “The idea that you can come in here and –”

“This is a courtesy call.”

“Why didn’t you just fucking call, then?” Darcy snapped, and he smiled at her.

“Because I wanted to see your face for once,” he said, and Darcy froze.

They glared at one another for a full minute before Rogers broke it off, turning his head toward the door.

“You want to leave _now_?” Darcy snapped, and his head whipped toward her. “You fucking coward.”

“Don’t call me that,” he said immediately, and Darcy knew she’d hit a nerve.

“Do you still get up before dawn every morning, Captain? Do you really hate yourself that much? ‘Cause it shows elsewhere.”

His jaw ticked.

“You’re just rotating the furniture on the Titanic,” she said. “You can’t stand the fact that you’ve spent months and months longer than me on a failed campaign.”

“Contrary to what you believe, not everything is about you,” he retorted. His eyes roved her, radiating contempt. “You will do this. For the party.”

“No. I don’t want to,” Darcy fired back. “I don’t want a junta at the DNC in August.”

He glanced at the ceiling, closing his eyes.

“He is reckless and he will get people killed.”

Darcy didn’t know what to say to that. She watched him look around her office once more, shaking his head.

“Get ugly. I don’t care. It might make things interesting for once,” she said.

They locked eyes.

“You really don’t want that,” he warned. “You really don’t want the dead bodies falling out of opened trunks with the cameras trained on you.”

The way he was looking at her was different. It wasn’t bloodlust in his eyes but genuine concern. Darcy couldn’t believe how quickly she went from evolved to back to the way she was in Chicago with him in the space of a couple minutes.

She had been ignoring the obvious, something that she should have protected better when she first sparred with him.

_Who’d you ask?_

_Some Harvard guys._

He knew about the sex. He knew about law school. He knew about every little dirty thing she’d ever done. She’d been played from the beginning, and only just now was he showing his cards.

“If you tell them about the guys at that party when I was twenty-three…” Darcy rose a finger, feeling herself start to shake. “I will fucking kill you and make it look like an accident.”

Rogers didn’t say anything, just stared at her with a sad expression forming on his face.

“You think I’d do that to a woman? Shame her for her past?”

“I have no idea what kind of man you are,” Darcy retorted. “I. Don’t. Know. You.”

She punctuated each with the stab of her pen against the desk. She wanted him to call her on her bluff, and then she would fly at him with fists and nails. She’d make him bleed.

He turned his heel and left her alone, her breathing heavy.

She sat in her chair, pen hurled away and put her face in her hands. She hadn’t cried in months. She began to weep, and didn’t stop until Pepper returned.

The redhead approached her, alarmed, but all Darcy could do was let her fold her arms around her and hold her.

“You should take the rest of the day off,” Pepper whispered.

Darcy drew back, sniffling. “Why? We have to work.”

She wiped away the rest of her tears and cleared her throat. They took their seats and resumed their meeting. Once they planned Pepper’s remaining weeks until Iowa, Pepper leaned back in her chair with her face still painted with concern.

“Do you think maybe you could have spent the last year differently?” Pepper asked, and Darcy’s eyes widened.

“Why are you asking that?”

“Because I’m constantly exhausted. Tony’s probably aged fifteen years. Morgan is –”

She paused, huffing. “Morgan’s going to be starting school while Tony’s in office if everything goes according to plan.”

Pepper’s eyes traveled over the calendar in front of them.

“This isn’t revelatory stuff. I just haven’t said anything like this out loud before.”

“But?” Darcy prompted, because there was always something else to add when talking about rhetorical things.

“Morgan might be damaged by this. Badly,” Pepper added. “And I’d be partly to blame. That’s hard to sit with every time I hand her over to a sitter and race out to the next rally.”

Darcy bit her lip. “I’d look after her if anything happened to either of you two.”

She’d never said it out loud before but she knew hearing that rarely made a parent feel better about what they were putting their child through.

Pepper nodded. “All I want to hear is that I’m not making some massive mistake we won’t recover from.”

Darcy looked away, Rogers still fresh in her mind. “I don’t want to lie to you. But I also know that things will be okay. For you and Morgan.”

“What about you and Tony?” Pepper asked, her voice smaller.

“I… don’t know,” Darcy admitted.

She saw the pen that she hurled earlier on the carpet and blinked several times, wishing she could give a better answer.

-

Darcy managed to pick herself up after making a trip to the non-profit, helping Jane run some fall events, like helping seniors in high school with their transition to freshman in college. She invited Carol but she couldn’t make it. Both their schedules were choked, and soon enough Pepper was standing at a podium after she’d done an extensive tour of a day care center in Iowa just a week out from the first major hurdle of 2020.

Darcy sat in a chair behind Pepper as she took questions from the press about her dreams for the future.

“One of my many concerns about the future has to do with kids, and the people who are paid to help look after them. They need all the support they can get. They need health insurance and reasonable hours.”

A reporter rose his hand and Pepper nodded to him.

“Would you support free childcare?”

“Absolutely,” Pepper said with a smile. “Who wouldn’t?”

“How’s your husband’s administration meant to find the money for that?” someone else asked, and Pepper gave a short nod in acknowledgement.

“It’s a difficult balancing act but there would need to be major changes in legislation before I could promise you something like that.”

It was a pretty vague answer for a direct question but the press seemed to allow it. Others asked Pepper about her trip and whether she was enjoying Iowa.

She doled out a lot of compliments. She made Darcy’s job easy, making the press laugh.

Darcy felt a buzz in her pocket and took out her phone.

Steve Rogers was calling her. She pressed ignore, but her phone immediately vibrated again, making her tut. She slipped out of her chair, moving off the stage in front of the day care center to answer it.

 _“What?”_ she snarled, exasperated.

“A reporter’s about to get a text confirming an insider source stating that Pepper Potts had a procedure to terminate a pregnancy in 1997.”

Darcy felt it like a blow to the stomach, like she was winded.

“What the fuck?” she whispered. “What source is this?”

“ _Darcy_. A reporter in the crowd is about to ask Pepper if she had an abortion.”

Darcy spun around and began stalking back toward the podium, her pulse heavy while her limbs began to tingle.

“It’s a legitimate source and she won’t be able to deny it.”

“Is this because of Chicago?” Darcy hissed. “Is this because of the fucking strawberry farmer?”

She knew her voice sounded hurt and beyond terrified. She didn’t give him a chance to answer, hanging up as she reached Pepper, who’d just pointed to a reporter who was holding his phone.

She tugged Pepper’s elbow. The redhead turned to give Darcy a confused look.

“Don’t answer his question, I’m cancelling this.”

“Ms. Potts, there’s an anonymous source –” the reporter began, but Darcy tugged at Pepper’s sleeve again.

“ _Don’t_ answer him,” she hissed, and Pepper frowned. The reporter went on, making his voice louder over Darcy’s protestations.

“A source to the Daily Marsh has confirmed that you underwent an abortion when you were in your twenties. Do you not see your passion project concerning the health and well-being of babies and children as hypocritical?”

The reporter couldn’t be older than Darcy, and he stared up at Pepper at the podium with a smile, waiting for her reaction.

Some of the audience outright gasped, others falling into hushed murmurs.

Pepper gaped for a few seconds. Darcy could feel her grip tightening around her phone as she called out:

“Someone remove this gutless rat right now. Get him out.”

“What about free speech, Miss Lewis?” the same reporter countered, as the people close by him regarded him with a mixture of shock and disgust.

“Fuck off,” Darcy snapped, and she heard the cameras click as she said it.

She only saw red, half tempted to jump off the stage and tackle him herself. They watched as he was pushed out by a security guard.

Darcy glanced at Pepper, who looked like she might faint. She took her by the hand and they ran, another one of their security guards shielding them as they fled.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God…” Pepper kept whispering, and all Darcy could do was grip her hand while they made their way through the sea of people to their car.

The door slammed behind them, Pepper began to cry silently.

“You _said_ –” Pepper started her sentence before abruptly stopping, more tears falling. “Darcy, you said I’d be fine.”

“I couldn’t see this coming,” Darcy whispered, wishing she had something better to say. “I’m so sorry.”

Pepper screwed up her face, sniffling.

“Just – just leave me alone.”

Darcy blanched, but nodded, drawing her hands away from Pepper as they rode in silence back to the hotel.

She kicked her door when she was finally alone, yelling obscenities while she tried to calm down. This could only have come from one person.

It reeked of Miranda Gunn and her pharmaceutical husband. Darcy would bet her whole three million dollars on it if she could.

She knew what she had to do.

-

The streets were lined with Christmas lights in Des Moines. It took Cherie about a minute to find the address Darcy needed, and her Uber took her the rest of the way.

Darcy wrenched the door open at Gunn’s temporary headquarters, her teeth grit as she looked around.

“Hey, you can’t –” an intern called after her, but Darcy was already making her way through the cubicles to the back of the office where a door kept the Congresswoman safe.

She burst in, and Miranda Gunn sitting at her desk with her pen poised to sign something.

Darcy could smell Rogers all through the office, but he was nowhere to be seen, but he wasn’t the one she came for.

“I always used to think you were a little out of touch but _my God_ , you’re stupider than I could ever have predicted,” Darcy began, her voice like ice.

Gunn looked alarmed and then angry.

She felt hands – an intern’s or someone else’s brush her shoulders and she moved away, glaring back at them.

“I swear to God if anyone touches me I’ll come back here with a flamethrower and you will _all_ be dead.”

The teenagers in their ugly Gunn 2020 t-shirts stared, hands to their sides. She turned to Gunn, dropping her voice.

“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Darcy asked, placing her hands on the desk and leaned closer to Gunn with her fiercest stare she could muster. “You have ruined whatever innocence Morgan Stark’s life has ever had.”

Gunn blinked at her, her cheeks reddening.

“One day when she’s old enough to understand she’ll read about this happening during the campaign and she will turn to her mom and ask ‘What made you decide to keep me?’” Darcy said, feeling her eyes fill with angry tears.

“Get out,” Gunn managed to retort, but her voice wobbled.

“You are a husk of a human. You are fucking evil. You are… _worthless_ ,” Darcy snarled, never blinking.

She moved back, her breathing beginning to settle. All Gunn could do was look away, fumbling for something in her desk.

Darcy pushed past the interns and left Gunn in her office.

“If you come back, you’ll be arrested!” another intern yelled after her.

Darcy simply rose her middle finger high with her back still turned, never slowing.

“Suck my dick,” she muttered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sowed the seeds for this close to the beginning of this fic and I'm gearing up for more drama. The next part will explain everything, I hope.


	9. Part Nine: Purgatory, or Steve's Brooklyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated a few hours ago so make sure you've read the last chapter before reading this part.

_"Maybe it is all a test_  
_'Cause I feel like I'm the worst_  
_So I always act like I'm the best..."_

\- "Oh No!" by Marina and the Diamonds

 

 

**Part Nine: Purgatory, or Steve's Brooklyn**

 

 

Darcy walked out of Gunn’s camp and all she could feel was the adrenaline still pumping through her. She stalked into the night with her breath coming in short bursts, taking out her phone to scroll through her contacts.

She went straight to voicemail. Rogers’ phone must have been switched off. His voicemail message was monotone as it greeted Darcy while she kept walking.

“You’ve reached Steve Rogers. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

There was the short beep and Darcy mustered another snarl.

“Where the _fuck_ are you, _fucker_? Call me back.”

She supposed that if he didn’t recognize her number he’d know her from the tone of her voice alone. Her phone buzzed in her hand and she felt another spike of anger but it was Jane calling, not Rogers.

“Jane.”

“Darcy, what the hell is going on? You’re all over the news.”

“What?”

“You exploded at that asshole on TV.”

Darcy managed to forget that moment entirely, only focusing on Pepper’s pain and the implications of that particular exchange with the media, and not her own.

“Did you go to confront Gunn at her office? Cherie told me that’s where you went.”

Jane sounded frightened and Darcy longed for her friend to be beside her instead of wherever the hell she was. She actually had no idea where Jane was at that point, since she stopped asking when it got too hard to see her over the past six months.

“I went there. I might have threatened arson.”

“Well, that’s great,” Jane snapped, sounding on the edge of exasperation. “I’m going to have to put out _metaphorical_ fires tomorrow because of your stunt. Explain to me how I’m meant to convince people their daughters are better off associating with us.”

Darcy stopped in her tracks, feeling her stomach drop.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah,” Jane said. “I know this is hard –”

Darcy made an incredulous sound. “You have no idea what this is like. I’m sorry I fucked up but that journalist – if you can even call him that – was attempting a disgusting personal attack for the sake of some clicks.”

“You need to calm down,” Jane said, which only made Darcy want to throw her phone against the pavement. “You need to get indoors and stay out of sight for a while.”

“Jane, I am sorry –”

“You don’t sound that sorry,” Jane interrupted. “When people apologize, they’re not supposed to then list justifications for their actions.”

Darcy bit her lip. “Right.”

“I’ll call you in a few days.”

Jane hung up without saying goodbye and Darcy took her phone away from her ear and stared at it in her hand. She felt sick.

-

She made it back to the hotel she and Pepper were staying at and went up to her room, wiping her eyes as she opened her door with her key card.

She stepped inside and pressed her head against the back of the door, sighing. She was tempted to raid her mini bar and drink herself to death. She switched her phone to silent while still facing her closed door.

“Hear anything from Tony?”

Pepper’s voice caught her off-guard and Darcy clutched at her chest, wides wide as she spun around to see Pepper’s feet sticking out from under the desk that had the hotel telephone resting upon it.

“I’m down here, sorry. Should have warned you,” Pepper murmured.

Darcy got on her knees and shuffled over, Pepper coming into view. Blotches of mascara rested under her eyes and she hugged her knees while staring straight ahead.

“Pepper.”

“I keep wishing I'll wake up tomorrow and this won’t have happened. We’ll still be at 65% percent and I’ll gasp, ‘Thank God’.”

She finally glanced at Darcy, her eyes red and cold.

“I thought I knew what ‘upset’ felt like. Turns out I had no idea. I have a brand new threshold and all I keep thinking is why did I have to buy that box of condoms instead of being on the pill and never letting my boyfriend finish inside me?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Darcy said, because this version of Pepper was scaring her. She was apathetic, she was without hope.”

“Yes, I do. Because people are already saying that they won’t vote for Tony because I lied to them. Even the ones who are pro-choice,” Pepper mumbled. “Imagine that.”

Darcy looked at Pepper’s legs that were shaking.

“The only thing I had going for me was that I was white and educated,” the redhead went on. “And now I’ll be a baby killer and it’ll be used for every angle people want it for.”

Darcy swallowed. “It’s not over.”

“It’s over.”

Darcy closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “What happened was illegal. Someone at some clinic had a file or a piece of paper and they can’t just leak something like that with there being consequences. Miranda Gunn had to –”

Pepper wasn’t listening. “What if I’d had three kids and couldn’t afford a fourth? What if my family was poor and it just wasn’t going to work to follow through with it?”

“Follow through?” Darcy repeated. “Pepper –”

“So because I was twenty- _fucking_ -one it’s okay to slutshame me? What the fuck?”

“It’s not okay, it’s not okay,” Darcy said, trying to pry one of Pepper’s arms away to hold her hand, but she wouldn’t budge.

“It was a cluster of cells in my uterus.”

Pepper stared at Darcy for a few seconds, more angry tears falling.

“You ever had an abortion?”

Darcy looked down. “No.”

“It’s horrible. People want you believe that you walk in and they roll you back out, but it’s traumatic and it hurts and – I was twenty-one. I was twenty-one!” Pepper yelled.

Darcy flinched.

“We can fix this.”

“Grow up, Darcy,” Pepper snapped, and Darcy immediately drew back, afraid to let her see she’d started to cry.

She sat on the edge of her bed, jiggling her leg to calm herself down. The cogs did not want to start turning. Darcy couldn’t move past Pepper’s anger and hurt. She didn’t know what to do.

There was a sharp knock on the door and Darcy jumped up from the bed, racing over to answer it.

Tony stood in front of her, his face twisted with rage.

“Where is she?”

“She’s – ”

He pushed past her and went to Pepper, crouching to pull her into a tight embrace. Darcy lingered, wringing her hands.

Tony got up, taking Pepper by the hand. Darcy finally remembered something, locking eyes with Tony.

“You’re meant to be in Tampa,” Darcy began.

Pepper whispered something to Tony and she walked out, picking up her shoes on the floor that Darcy managed to miss when she came in before. She left Tony and Darcy alone.

“Did you take one of the suits to get here?” Darcy asked, Tony’s blinking rapid. “Did anyone see you?”

“Me flying here is the least of our concerns,” he said, his voice delicate. “Seeing my wife like that on television takes priority.”

“I wasn’t expecting it,” Darcy blurted, at a loss. “I should have prepared.”

“No-one should have to know that information,” Tony said, a finger raised.

He didn’t seem to know what to do with himself and Darcy watched him begin to pace.

“I already went down to confront Gunn about it.”

Tony froze, glaring at her. “Do you have any idea what kind of harassment case you’ve exposed us to?”

“This isn’t about my ego, Tony,” Darcy snapped.

He closed his eyes. “When is it not? When is it not with you, Darcy?”

“I did what was right. And she won’t sue me because I’ll find out who the leak was.”

“The right word to use in this situation is ‘us’, because what you do reflects on me, and you know that,” Tony said, his finger pointing to the ground. “I’m so goddamn mad I don’t know what to do.”

“Mad at me?”

“Probably not as mad as I should be,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “I should have been here.”

“You were booked out.”

“My wife –”

“I know,” Darcy whispered. She looked at the floor. “I know.”

Tony let out a sigh. Darcy licked her lips, blinking away more tears.

“And that’s my kid,” Tony added, his voice sounding tight.

Darcy looked up to see his eyes were shining, too. She bit back a sob and nodded. She took a deep breath through her nose and looked around for her bag of papers and schedule.

“I’ll divert some things. We’ll work it out.”

Darcy went for her phone, unlocking it.

“You need to leave, Darcy. I need to stay but you’re going.”

Darcy glanced up. “I can fix this.”

“You swore at a journalist on live television. You’re out of control. You have to go.”

“Are you firing me?” Darcy asked, and beneath all the disappointment she felt an anger toward Tony.

“You’re taking a break.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” she whispered, frowning.

“Mexico. Hawaii,” Tony said, waving a hand around. “Go _home_.”

Darcy looked away. She didn’t have one of those anymore. All her things were in a storage unit in Queens, the monthly fee deposited from her bank account. She deleted the notification emails when she got them, reminding her that she lived out of a suitcase.

“Right.”

“You can take my jet.”

“I can make my own way back to New York,” Darcy snapped.

Tony shook his head at her, frustrated. “You don’t want someone recognising you in La Guardia or whatever other airport you land in. You’re taking one of my jets and Happy’s driving you.”

He took out his phone while Darcy packed, feeling her anger slowly melt into sadness and shame.

“Two days,” Tony said, when Happy got to the room and it was time to leave.

Darcy nodded dumbly.

-

They landed in New York and Darcy took her phone off flight mode to see that Carol had sent her a few messages asking her to call her back.

Darcy felt a panic rise in her chest as she dialled her number in the Uber on the way to her hotel.

“Carol.”

“Have you heard from Steve?” Carol asked. She sounded frantic. “He always calls me when there’s a vote but he didn’t this time and when I tried to call him is phone was off.”

“I tried to call him earlier, but –”

“I tried calling him at Gunn’s office in Des Moines,” Carol went on. “But the intern I spoke to said he was fired and then didn’t say why.”

Darcy felt her heart sink. What if this was somehow her fault? How was she supposed to live with another fuck-up so close to the other ones?

“Darcy,” Carol prompted, and she realized her friend had said something and she hadn’t responded.

“Sorry,” she replied.

“I would go there myself but I can’t get out of these meetings tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll go,” Darcy said. “I’ll go check on him. I just need his address. I just landed.”

She asked her Uber driver to pull over as Carol sounded off Rogers’ address.

Darcy took a deep breath. She was going to Brooklyn.

-

Darcy waited for one of Steve’s neighbors to open the front door, slipping inside when they walked out. She climbed the steps from the foyer two at a time, wishing her legs could carry her faster.

She went to his door – 14A – and knocked several times, hoping he could hear her over the music that she could hear from the outside.

It sounded like Ray Charles.

There was a rattle of the chain and then the door opened, and for the briefest moment Rogers’ eyes were staring down at Darcy, before he promptly shut the door in her face.

“No.”

That was all he said. Just ‘no’ and then the slam of the door. Darcy flinched, before her hand went to the doorknob to twist at it in vain.

“Let me in.”

“You win, Darcy, okay?” he called, and her hand dropped to her side. “You win.”

She swallowed. Him getting fired didn’t seem like winning at all. In fact, it was worse than losing because it meant she didn’t get to choose when this – what _this_ was – ever ended.

She let out a sigh, and pressed her forehead against the door.

“Please go away.”

“Carol sent me,” she called back, feeling the hard wood against her skull while she half listened to the music inside. “Please just tell me you’re okay so I can tell her.”

He didn’t respond, but Darcy didn’t hear his retreating footsteps.

She closed her eyes. “ _I_ should have called you back after the press conference. _I_ should have made sure you were okay.”

She sighed again. “Steve – I’m sorry.”

She moved back, waiting, resting her hand against the door frame. She looked down the hallway she stood in and missed her old apartment.

There was a click and a rattle and the door opened, Steve back in place with his eyes trained on her. Darcy swallowed, waiting.

He moved aside, the door wide open. She found her feet, taking the first step inside as the music grew louder. He was blasting it from somewhere in his living room.

He shut the door behind her and Darcy readjusted the strap of her bag, looking around. His place was cramped just like his headquarters, with stacks of old newspapers everywhere, and unironed shirts on coathangers hung on doors to his bedroom and the bathroom.

His couch looked old and lumpy, and his TV had dust on it.

Darcy glanced up at Steve, who was making his way to the kitchen area and she followed him cautiously.

“What the hell happened, Steve?” she asked. “Wait, are you drunk?”

He wasn’t as agile, he wasn’t smooth. He had an open bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on his counter with a tumbler half full beside it. He didn’t answer her, just picked up his glass and took three long gulps of it, draining it. He went to refill it and Darcy stepped forward, snatching it from him.

“Let me. Christ,” she muttered, and she took the bottle from the bench and poured herself nearly a glassful, moving aside before he could take it back.

She took a gulp like he did, feeling the delicious burn all through her, and she sighed.

“You got fired,” she said, and he made an annoyed expression.

“There it is,” he muttered, and then he walked out of his kitchen into the living room, Darcy following him once again.

“I didn’t come to gloat. I want to know why. Did it happen after you called me?”

He threw himself onto the couch as Darcy remained standing. He nodded.

“Yeah. But I was too late to stop her.”

Darcy frowned.

Steve licked his lips, sighing. “Around the Superbowl she asked me to do some digging but I convinced her to hold off. I didn’t want to exploit someone else’s secrets.”

“What changed her mind again?” Darcy asked.

“She and Ainsworth were struggling and she knew Pepper was helping Tony win a lot of the women’s vote,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly. “She became someone I didn’t know anymore. She wanted dirt, she wanted to know everything I knew.”

“Did you know about Pepper?” Darcy asked, her eyes widening.

“No, I swear,” Steve said, his hands up. “She had a source through her husband’s company. Some snoop out looking to drive a nail into a coffin.”

“She went behind your back,” Darcy breathed.

“It was after you turned down the Vice Presidency,” he said, and Darcy swallowed hard. “The source came to me first, not realizing I wasn’t in on it.”

“You took it to her.”

“Yeah,” he said, and then he looked away. “She said if I wasn’t 100% on her side then I wasn’t on her side at all. She said she’d leak it this afternoon.”

“You told her not to,” Darcy said.

“Of course I told her not to leak that Pepper –” He cut himself off, sighing once more. “I said I was quitting. She said she wouldn’t let me and that I was fired.”

Darcy stared at him, and then she put the glass to her lips and drank until it was empty, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her chest felt tight.

“I had Thanksgiving with her family,” Steve said, sounding surprised. “I – I took her kids to school when she couldn’t. I _believed_ in her.”

Darcy sat down beside him, their animosity forgotten. She hated seeing him like this. She had never had a day like this before when everything felt this unfair.

“I don’t care what you say, this is my fault,” Steve muttered, looking down at his hands. “I should have convinced her to drop out. Now she’s shot Stark in the neck while shooting herself in the foot.”

“The stakes were high. She couldn’t handle it,” Darcy said, never taking her eyes off of him. “It’s not your fault.”

“I want it to be,” he snapped. “I want this to be something I had control over. I can't stand the idea that this is just normal. Someone doing that to someone – a woman doing that to another woman is not _fucking normal_.”

He put his face in his hands and Darcy moved forward, her hand hovering.

“Steve.”

“Don’t call me that,” he said, taking his hands away and glaring at her.

Her hand shot back to her lap. “It’s your name.”

“You of all people can’t call me that when you –” He looked away, sighing. “Fuck. _Fuck_.”

Darcy kept still while he mulled over whatever he was thinking. There was a silence between them as the music played in the background. The liquor had begun to work its way through Darcy’s system and her tongue felt looser.

“This,” she began, and Steve turned his eyes to hers. “This is the longest relationship I’ve ever been in. You and me.”

“That can’t be true,” Steve replied instantly.

“It is. And I hate you,” she said, letting out a shaky breath. “And I’m so mad at myself because I care that you don’t have a job anymore. I wanted to beat you.”

“My heart bleeds for you,” he deadpanned, taking the glass back from her and getting up, going back to the kitchen.

He returned with his glass full, sipping. He glanced at her face and sighed.

“You’re not all that bad,” he murmured. “I am genuinely surprised. Would have thought you’d had half a dozen marriage proposals by now when I first found out about you.”

“And then you met me,” she said, snorting.

He smiled. “Yeah.”

Darcy didn’t look away, just watched him sit beside her, his arm settling on the back of the couch. If he was someone else she would have thrown a leg over him and kissed him. Instead, she just took his drink from him and took a sip. He watched her with fascination.

“You wanna watch a movie?” he asked.

The ended up with _All the President’s Men_ playing in front of them while they spoke, Darcy growing steadily drunker while they shared from the same glass.

“I hate this movie,” she muttered, and Steve turned his head toward her, frowning.

“How could you? You’re a Democrat.” He took a sip of their drink.

Darcy shook her head, narrowing her eyes at the faces in front of them.

“I’m just mad it’s physically impossible for me to fuck 1976 Robert Redford,” she murmured, and Steve choked, pulling the glass away from his mouth, coughing.

She watched him dissolve into a long laugh, his hand clutching his stomach as it took over his whole body. Darcy stared at him while resting her chin in her hands.

“Fair enough,” he finally said, shaking his head.

They watched the movie while Darcy considered their options.

“What about an investigation? Gunn’s hubby.”

She never usually used a word like that but she was admittedly unlike herself that night, especially with all the alcohol in her blood and stomach.

Steve’s face changed to something harder.

“I checked the source, there’s no way to determine who the leak was.”

“How?” Darcy asked, looking away from the screen. “He’s in the field. He’s high up enough to pull strings –”

“Darcy, trust me. I checked,” he said, and their eyes met.

“It’s not fair,” Darcy said, and she knew it made her sound like a child.

Steve just nodded. She watched him take another sip, his eyes glazed.

“What did those Harvard guys tell you when you asked about me?” she asked.

Steve glanced at her, then away again.

“Darcy –”

“It was consensual. I want to know what you know.”

“You really don’t.”

“What, and I didn’t call you like I did in Chicago?” she blurted, and then she pressed her lips together, realizing she’d accidentally said the thought out loud.

She felt her cheeks redden and she bit her lip. “I think we know each other well enough for us to talk about it.”

He didn’t say anything at first, thinking. He looked right at her and said:

“Is that what you really sound like?”

She knew what he meant instantly. Was how she sounded on the phone what she really sounded like when she came?

“Yes,” she said, feeling her stomach flip. “Did the idea of those guys taking turns with me turn you on?”

“Yes,” he said, and Darcy blinked at him.

She turned away, trying to focus on the movie. It felt longer than usual, and when it was finally over Steve turned to her.

“I’ll get a cab,” she said, and he shook his head.

“I’ll take the couch.”

“I have a hotel,” she retorted, though she didn’t actually want to leave. She stared him down, before pretending he convinced her and nodded.

They walked toward his bedroom and he let her in, holding the door wide open. She shuffled in, seeing his bed was made. He probably hadn’t slept there in months.

“It’s a single,” she said, only stating the obvious to make conversation, because her nose was filled with his scent and she felt herself blush again.

“It’s a king.”

“A king single? That doesn’t bother girls you bring here for sleepovers?” Darcy asked, attempting to tease him.

He locked eyes with her and said, “When I bring girls here I don’t tend to do a lot of sleeping.”

She glanced at his mouth and he caught her, eyes darker than before. She swallowed. He dropped her bag on the floor with a thud.

Darcy took a distinct step back toward the bed and he got the message, nodding at her.

“I’ll bring you some aspirin in the morning,” he said, and Darcy nodded back.

He left her, Darcy’s hands balling into fits as she wondered if she could actually fall asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you thought Steve was in on it? You know him better than that.
> 
>  
> 
> [Oh No! Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40fK1VNd3wlyUOJvuo6HI0?si=i-D8cuWcQ4Gr6fwyJwqYrw)


	10. Part Ten: If It Was A Date, You'd Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohh, man. I'm already in the double-digits, my dudes. Thank you to everyone for the amazing responses I've received from this fic.  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)  
> [Oh No! Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40fK1VNd3wlyUOJvuo6HI0?si=i-D8cuWcQ4Gr6fwyJwqYrw)

_"I wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind..."_

\- "See You Again" by Tyler the Creator

 

 

**Part Ten: If It Was A Date, You'd Know**

 

 

Darcy pressed her cheek into Steve’s pillow, hands gripping the cover as she twisted. She was fighting off the leftover of a dream, something vivid that caused a nagging ache between her legs.

Her eyes opened and she glanced around, feeling the expected headache from her drinking and she sighed. She doesn’t remember but she doesn’t have to think about it too much to know what it was about, with how sweaty she was despite the chill of Steve’s apartment.

She wiped her mouth, her eyes slits as she reached for her phone on his nightstand. She didn’t get a proper look of his room when she stumbled in drunkenly last night but she could see that there was little of anything personal about it. Perhaps there were things she could find in his cupboards or the drawers. The bedside table had a drawer, and Darcy’s hand went to open it, too curious for her own good.

There were a couple pennies, a bottle cap and a worn tube of KY jelly that made Darcy’s eyebrows hike but no condoms or condom wrappers.

_When I bring girls here I don’t tend to do a lot of sleeping._

Steve said that last night with his dark eyes searching hers. They were both really drunk and Darcy winced, hoping he meant what he said about the aspirin. She’d revealed way too much last night and now she had to figure out how to leave Brooklyn while still saving face. She hoped he was out.

She redressed in her clothes from yesterday and cleared her throat, brushing her hair without a mirror, not daring to open any other private place even if there was a mirror in a closet. She even pulled her shoes back on and then went to the door, turning the knob as quietly as possible.

She peeked around, hearing soft breathing coming from the couch. He was still asleep. She held her breath, opening the door wider to creep past, making her way to the kitchen area. She glanced over at the couch and saw he was sleeping on his back with a blanket wrapped around him. The couch was too small for his frame, his feet dangling well over the edge while he stirred.

 _Shit_. Darcy looked around the cupboards trying to find a glass. Did he have a medicine cabinet in the bathroom? Did she need to go back for that or could she just grab her bag and run?

She looked around, frantic, until her phone began to vibrate in her pocket and she jolted with fright. She fumbled, pulling her phone out to see Carol was calling her. She vaguely remembered texting her friend last night during the movie.

“Hey,” Darcy answered, her voice hushed.

“Hey! Is he okay? I texted him before.”

Darcy hadn’t checked the time until she pulled her phone away from her ear while Carol’s speech was rapid fire and breathless. It was past 9AM.

“He’s fine. He’s sleeping.”

Carol made an odd sound on the other end, surprised. “What? You’re still there?”

“Yeah, I was about to leave.”

She turned around and saw that Steve had awakened, rubbing his eyes with his hair sticking up in places. Darcy’s eyes dipped to his t-shirt that fit tight against his solid muscle.

“He’s up,” she managed to say, and then she took her phone away from her ear and walked back toward the couch, handing Steve the phone.

He started talking to Carol in a low voice as Darcy circled back to the kitchen, investigating. She found the mugs and put on a pot of coffee. She went and used the bathroom, searching the cabinets and finding the motherlode.

Any kind of pain pill she could have wanted was there, and she stared with wide eyes wondering if Steve had some kind of problem. She squinted, seeing that the names were all his and a lot of them were probably expired, hardly used.

Stubborn and not prone to taking prescribed medicines. Darcy pursed her lips, taking the aspirin bottle and walking back out. Steve still spoke with Carol.

Darcy stood over him with a glass of water and two pills, and he took them with an odd expression on his face.

“I was on the couch,” he was saying, and Darcy blinked at him.

She motioned for him to take the pills and he did, her phone resting between his shoulder and ear while he used both hands.

“You know what? I can’t say,” he said, looking right at Darcy.

“What?”

Steve didn’t elaborate for Darcy, just kept talking to Carol while Darcy looked at the ceiling. He said something about Miranda and she looked back down.

“She’s probably go after my reputation now just so I’m punished for trying to keep her moral compass intact.” Carol said something and he made a face. “Fine.”

He pulled the phone from his ear and pressed speaker, and Darcy was forced to push aside her memory of Chicago when she put Steve on speakerphone.

“So what are you two kids going to get up to?” Carol asked, and Darcy decided she didn’t like her tone. Steve must have said something for their friend to be egging them on.

“I’m going to my hotel to sleep until next year.”

Granted, it was mid-December so it wasn’t that long of a time, but it would suffice. Darcy crossed her arms while she said it.

“That doesn’t seem like your style, Darce. You being tired from rage,” Carol replied, and Darcy sighed.

Darcy’s eyes met Steve’s. “I’m furious but I don’t know what to do with it.”

“We’ll go get breakfast,” Steve said, giving a shrug.

“Ohh!” came Carol’s voice between them and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Not like a date, Carol. Cool it,” he warned.

Darcy wanted to push away every idea like that so she harrumphed and snapped:

“If it was a date, you’d know, _he’d_ know and all of fucking Brooklyn would know.”

Carol didn’t seem too troubled by Darcy’s testiness. She only laughed while Steve screwed up his face.

“Okay, way too loud for this stage of my hangover,” he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

They said their goodbyes and Steve handed Darcy back her phone and she shoved it in her jeans pocket again, turning her heel and stalking back to the kitchen for coffee.

“I meant it,” Steve called. “Breakfast. That usually helps.”

Darcy was pouring two cups of coffee as he said it and she felt the urge to tense, to make some rude remark to hurt his feelings. It was too easy now, and she knew if he tried to do the same a barb would sting too much.

She turned back with their coffee, walking over.

“Breakfast usually helps with a political scandal?” she said dryly, handing him his coffee before sipping her own.

“I’m trying. Let me try,” he said, and Darcy wondered what he meant.

Trying to make her feel better or trying to make it easier for them to move on from last night? Maybe he meant for them to move on from whatever this was between them – the sexual games Darcy had so far won every time. She considered everything he’d done by comparison harmless.

She wanted to go back to wanting him and feeling a distinct wall between them. She felt worse off now.

She looked away. “Sure. But I’ll pick the place.”

He didn’t argue, just nodded before exiting to the bathroom and showering while Darcy waited for him, foot jiggling.

-

“The garlic bread is ten dollars,” Steve said, reading off the menu he held while Darcy looked at her own copy, her lips pursing automatically.

They sat in a plush red booth, sunglasses on their table with their water glasses filled. Darcy looked up from her menu.

“You’re ruining it for me,” she said, careful not to use any name to address him with.

If she didn’t give him his name maybe their meal would go by easier. She’d go to the hotel after this and never speak to him again. She knew it would be better if she didn’t see him, either. She was bound to run into him eventually with the non-profit stuff but she hoped she could just work behind the scenes for a while and not go to events if Jane hadn’t decided to estrange her by the end of the weekend.

“It’s ten dollars,” he repeated. He read on. “And what’s orangeade?”

“It’s sparkling orange juice,” Darcy said, trying her best to look disgusted by his ignorance rather than amused. “You live in Brooklyn, how can you not have tried orangeade?”

“I go to the same diner all the time. And I’m not a huge fan of gentrification.”

“Ohh, careful now. You’re starting to sound like those baby-boomer Republicans talking about the good old days,” she teased, wagging a finger while her eyes perused the menu once more.

“What, gentrification doesn’t hike up the rent and cause small businesses to suffer?” Steve said, looking grumpy. “What’s wrong with keeping my neighborhood the same when it’s fine how it is?”

Darcy shrugged a shoulder. “The world’s changing.”

“I bet,” he muttered. He narrowed his eyes at the menu. “I guess I’ll have to try the orangeade.”

Darcy covered her snort and Steve looked at her differently, the kind of fascination he first projected when she barged into his office the day he tried to poach her.

“How come you’re not a lawyer?” he asked, and Darcy made a face.

“What? Next question, please,” she muttered, shoving the menu aside with Canadian pancakes on her mind.

“No, really. Why aren’t you at that place in Manhattan winning cases?”

“You wanna become a lawyer suddenly?” she returned, quirking one elbow.

He put aside his own menu. “I know you like to pretend like you’re lacking in human decency –”

Darcy’s eyes bulged and he only seemed emboldened by her reaction.

“-and general feelings but you must care about something besides winning.”

“Hardly,” Darcy answered crisply, not liking how close to the bone he cut. “What’s the point if I can’t win?”

“You learn from mistakes?” Steve ventured, amused.

“Finally, I know how to pronounce that word. _Mistake_. Two syllables,” she replied, and Steve chuckled.

They lapsed into silence and their waiter came over, a girl with pink hair and arms covered in tattoos. She didn’t seem to recognize Darcy but she kept smiling at Steve with the kind of enthusiasm she could only pick as attraction.

“Uh-oh,” Darcy muttered under her breath when the girl walked off with their orders.

Steve looked at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

She busied herself with her phone, scrolling through the news articles. Pepper’s old high school teachers were coming forward seeing her praises. It made Darcy sigh and put her phone face down.

“You still didn’t answer my question before,” Steve said, and Darcy looked up at him. He didn’t seem teasing, and she could be wrong but Darcy felt as though he was trying to distract her.

 _Breakfast helps_. She didn’t scowl at him for once.

“I don’t like working with lawyers. I didn’t like how it made me feel.” She touched her fiddled with her fork, feeling his eyes watching her. “Turned out I don’t like everything that I’m good at.”

Steve nodded, a knowing look while he listened.

“You the same?” Darcy asked, and he nodded again, quiet.

He might tell her now. He might not. Darcy wanted to know what made him stop being Captain Rogers. She wanted to know if it made him closer to Carol. She recognized that she envied that closeness, even if it made her feel weaker to admit it to herself.

Darcy’s phone hummed and she flipped it over, seeing Tony’s number pop up. She unlocked it, turning her head away for privacy. She’d rather not go outside in the cold to answer it.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t say hello, but he wasn’t one for doing that at the best of times. Now he sounded as though he was talking to Morgan, or at least someone his child’s age.

“Gonna eat breakfast when it comes to my table.”

“It’s more the _with_ that concerns me, not the _what_ ,” Tony added, and Darcy could make out a yell in the background.

Morgan. He was in Malibu, nowhere near any of the scheduled stops for that Saturday. Darcy was thrown for a moment, recalling herself defending the toddler, practically foaming at the mouth in Gunn’s face just yesterday. She came crashing back to Earth and she swallowed hard, ignoring Steve’s eyes that were trying to read her face.

“What the hell are you doing with him?” Tony added, and Darcy shot up from her chair without warning, cutlery clattering.

“You having me tailed?” she asked, her voice thin. She looked out the window and saw only people walking by and people riding their bikes through the streets.

“Of course I had you tailed because I thought you might do something stupid like this, which you did!”

Darcy didn’t appreciate being called stupid.

“What do you think I’ve done that’s stupid? I didn’t sleep with him.”

She didn’t dare look at Steve, she just kept her eyes on the people outside. Her eyes settled on a black car in the distance and she narrowed her eyes.

“Tell whoever it is to leave me alone because I’m having breakfast and that’s it.”

Tony sighed. “You can tell me if something happened.”

“ _Oh, my God,_ ” she snapped, irritated by his patronizing tone. “I stayed over. He was the one who tried to stop Gunn from using the leak against us.”

Their waiter came over with their plates and Darcy bristled. She might have hissed at her if Steve wasn’t there. He smiled at her while Darcy turned back toward the view of the street, watching as the black car peeled off.

“Are they gone now? Can I eat my goddamn pancakes in peace, Tone?” she snapped, hearing Morgan for the second time. She was yelling nonsense and Darcy felt a pang of longing, wishing she was there.

When Tony didn’t answer her she hung up, huffing. She felt something on her hip and saw Steve brushed at her side with his fingers as he reached across and she moved away from him instantly.

“Darcy, sit down,” he said softly, and she glanced at her plate full of food and sat down, eating in silence.

At the end of their meal they argued about who’d pay. Darcy wanted to split it but Steve said he wanted it to be a treat. She didn’t want to owe him anything.

“This isn’t about me thinking you’re being sexist, I just want to pay my share because it’s fair,” she snapped, slamming notes on the table.

Steve just gave her a long stare and carefully put down his own notes to cover the rest. He didn’t seem defeated, if anything he seemed to be gearing up for another round as they stepped outside to walk back to his apartment.

“Is it really so horrible for me to be nice to you?” he snapped, and Darcy glared back at him, chin jutting.

“I have to make you feel good, huh?” she snapped. “First Tony about Pepper and then you about Pepper and then _you_ about _me_. Two men I’ve had to make feel better. That’s two too many for me.”

She waved her hands around. “I’m done. I’m done.”

“ _You’re_ done?” he retorted, glaring at her like she’d just insulted his dead mother. “I’m unemployed.”

“So am I, too, most likely!” she yelled.

They almost barreled over a hipster on his Blade scooter in the middle of the pavement as they kept walking and bickering. He moved only just in time.

Steve closed his eyes, exasperated. “All I wanted was you on my team. Boy, am I stupid.”

‘Boy, am I stupid’ caused Darcy to burst out laughing, her mouth crooked and cruel. “Yeah. But I would have thought Gunn being your number one for over a year was enough of an indication that you’ve only got half a brain.”

Steve just shook his head, disgusted.

“She wants everything every other candidate wants except she’s a woman. That’s it. That’s the only thing that makes her different,” she continued. “She’s a convincing sociopath and that’s it.”

She was sure if she said ‘that’s it’ again he might strangle her.

“What about Stark? A billionaire instead of a millionaire and the only thing that separates him from the rest of the party is what?” Steve gave his own wave.

“Is that a genuine question, or -?” Darcy smirked.

Their voices echoed through the foyer of Steve’s apartment building as he let them in.

“I still don’t know if it’s just you or something he did to convince you that he was the best candidate.”

He gave a shrug and Darcy rolled her eyes.

She waited until they reached Steve’s apartment and he let them inside, Darcy first.

“He discovered a new element when digging through Howard Stark’s archives. A message was hidden in a film for Tony to find when technology was more advanced.”

Steve stopped still and stared at her, the door slamming shut.

“What does this have to do with –?”

“His clean energy plan is this element. It’s more powerful than his original arc reactor. It will outdo any other type of fuel,” Darcy said, each word precise. “And even if he didn’t have that working for him he’s still a better man than Ainsworth and a better person than Miranda Gunn could ever be.”

Steve let out a chuckle as if he’d realized something.

“This was your rabbit out of a hat,” he said. He shook his head at her.

“I prefer smoking gun, it sounds better,” Darcy said, and Steve scratched the back of his head.

He frowned. “Why didn’t he come forward with this already? What’s his excuse when people are already suffering from the effects of climate change?”

He made a fair point. Darcy gave a shrug. “Maybe he just really wanted to be President and I really want to win.”

Steve shook his head. “No. I’m gonna hold you to this ‘cause it’s a pretty direct question.”

Darcy looked away. “He didn’t know if he could pull it off alone. And maybe having a government behind him and a thorough plan will be enough.”

“He always sounded like Howard Hughes and I never liked that about him,” Steve retorted.

Darcy glanced at him, and Steve crossed his arms defensively.

“I think that’s inspiring and you’re just jealous.”

“Because I grew up poor?” Steve snapped, and Darcy shrugged.

“Maybe. And maybe you wish he’d be more serious about becoming President.”

Steve’s jaw ticked. “He used to be an arm’s dealer.”

“People change. Didn’t you, once?” Darcy said, and Steve had to pause.

She walked over to his bedroom, picking up her things to pack them away, readying herself to go.

“Where are you going?”

“You know there’s a thing called a hotel, right? I booked one for two nights and I want –”

“You’re just gonna leave me with a secret like that and then – leave?” Steve said, following her around the apartment as she got a glass and filled it with water from the faucet.

“You won’t tell me about why you’re not in the Army anymore,” Darcy said.

She put down the glass, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You didn’t ask,” Steve said, and she quirked an eyebrow.

She stared him down and he sighed, passing a hand over his face.

“I was good at my job. I… stopped because I didn’t want to kill people anymore. And then a lot of people turned their back on me.”

She looked at the way his jaw tensed while admitting that.

“So you’re trying to make a difference elsewhere.”

“ _Yes,”_ he said, with a nod. “And you’re pretending you’re not the same as me.”

In the hours that they spent together that morning, Darcy acknowledged that she no longer hated Steve Rogers. She didn’t mind his self-righteousness or his ridiculously good looks. There was something about him that made her want to fight but she did care about him. He must have got under her skin.

She put down her bag, saying she needed the bathroom. When she returned, Steve was holding his phone with a shocked expression on his face. It could only be more bad news.

He looked up at Darcy and their eyes met.

“Ainsworth just had a massive heart attack. He died.”

“What?” she breathed. “When? What happened?”

Steve glanced at his phone again, reading. “He was at a rally in Tampa and collapsed. His wife was there.”

Darcy didn’t expect to care, but she felt her chest tighten at the thought of his wife seeing that happen.

“I have to call Tony,” she whispered, taking her phone from her bag and dialing his number.

It took him precisely two rings to pick up.

“I don’t want to die doing this,” he said, and Darcy bit her lip.

“That won’t happen, you’re a healthy guy.”

Steve was watching her and she frowned.

“You need to come back.”

“You banished me,” she said, because she couldn’t help herself. “I’m still at Steve’s.”

“Bring your boyfriend.”

She made a face, and then a thought surfaced.

“Wait. I should.”

There was a rustle on Tony’s end. “I was joking, Short Stack.”

“Really? Because I ate pancakes and I’m average-sized -?”

“You are not average-sized, Short Stack,” Tony said, and she could hear the echo of his footsteps inside the Malibu basement. “You are short.”

“So are you,” Darcy said. She waved a hand, feeling Steve’s stare. “I’m off-track. I’ll bring him. It’s perfect. He hates you.”

“You hate him.”

Darcy looked at Steve. “He’s grown on me, like a …rash.”

“ _Really_?” Steve said, though he didn’t really seem too offended.

“I’m okay,” she continued, “I just needed breakfast and I’m back to being a pain in the ass.”

Tony chuckled. “What the hell has he done to you?”

When she hung up she told Steve he was coming with her and his eyes widened.

“No. No way.”

“Why not?” she asked. “You’ve got a lot of free time on your hands.”

“I could go back to my non-profit,” he said, and Darcy shook her head.

“I heard you stepped down because of other work commitments,” she said, and Steve narrowed his eyes at her.

“Darcy. I will not work for Tony Stark.”

“That’s fine. You can work for me,” she said, flashing him a smile as she crossed her arms like he’d done.

“Oh, you’re loving this,” he said, looking at the ceiling. “You broke me down just like you planned.”

He locked eyes with her, his stare bright and teasing.

“It’s your kink.”

Darcy rolled her eyes elaborately. “Oh, please. We both know that since you spoke to those Harvard guys you already knew _exactly_ what I’m into.”

She didn’t look away from him, watching a blush grow on his cheeks as his eyes dipped. He could only shake his head at her before he went to the bedroom to pack a bag.

-

“Have you lost your mind?” Pepper yelled, and Darcy closed her eyes briefly against the impact of her voice.

She’d been in Malibu nine minutes while Steve still sat in their Uber down the driveway just outside the gates.

Darcy was standing with her hands resting on her hips with the waterfall behind her, and she just revealed that Steve was outside waiting to come in.

“I’m surprised this is the first time you’ve said that, actually.”

“This isn’t funny,” Pepper snapped. “I’m serious about you having another severe lapse of judgement.”

Darcy put up her hands. “That’s fair. But these are special circumstances.”

“You can’t use Ainsworth dying as an excuse to bring one of – _that_ woman’s staff to my house.”

Darcy nodded. “Pepper –”

“Don’t. I’m sick of you doing and then thinking,” the redhead added with a finger raised for good measure. “I have to just carry on like – _ah!_ ”

Steve had appeared around the corner and Pepper yelped, covering her mouth.

Darcy shot Steve an exasperated look. “I told you to stay in the car.”

“I already paid the guy. I felt bad,” Steve said quietly, his hands at his sides.

Pepper took a second to compose herself and then forced a smile.

“Hello, Steven.”

“Hello, Ms. Potts,” he said, and Darcy could see he was trying his hardest to make a good impression. And then he sold her out.

“It was her idea. And she left the front door open.”

“Oh, _thanks_ ,” Darcy said, narrowing her eyes at him. “At least you were quick in your betrayal.”

“Obviously it was Darcy’s idea,” came Tony’s voice, and he appeared at the top of the stairs holding hands with Morgan. “But I’m not encouraging it.”

“We’ve got another edge now,” Darcy said, gesturing at Steve’s general space.

“We’re nothing _but_ edges,” Pepper muttered. “And now we have to pretend like the candidate who just died isn’t the most popular one.”

She looked tired. Darcy couldn’t imagine her sleeping. She and Steve didn’t talk much on the way over, and Darcy’s stomach was in knots when the Uber rolled up at the property.

“I fucked up,” she said, and she felt everyone’s eyes on her once more. She looked at Morgan. “Sorry, Monkey. Said the wrong word. Sorry, Pepper. Also sorry for saying that word on television, too.”

Pepper sighed, and Steve cleared his throat.

“I should have called a bomb threat in or something. I should have stopped the reporter.”

“It would have got out anyway,” Pepper murmured. She glanced at him, giving a small smile. “You ran a really good campaign. What she did wasn’t fair to you.”

Tony came closer, taking Pepper’s hand. “We have to get back to it eventually.”

“You don’t have to go on TV or anything,” Steve said immediately. “You just have to move back into public appearances eventually.”

Steve gave Darcy a look before resting his eyes on Tony.

“I can’t work for you, though. I’m sorry.”

Tony made a face, a mixture of amusement and confusion. “You came all this way just to tell me you weren’t interested?”

Steve pointed at Darcy. “She made me come with her.”

“Women don’t make you do anything,” Tony retorted.

“Yes, they do,” Pepper and Darcy said in unison.

They all chuckled, but Steve shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but it can’t. Maybe next year I can help host some events but – I’m done. I think I’ve been done for a while and I just didn’t accept it.”

Steve looked at Darcy again, nodding. “You were right.”

“About what?”

Steve shrugged. “Everything.”

Darcy didn’t know what he could possibly mean by that. She was right that he hated himself? She was right that Tony would win and Steve simply didn’t want anything to do with it?

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Darcy muttered, and Tony let out a short laugh.

Steve nodded, hands on hips. “About me whining about the good old days.”

Darcy made a face. “I called you a Republican. You’re so liberal if you were any more left-leaning you’d fall into the ocean, Steve.”

Tony and Pepper laughed together then, and Steve even smirked.

“Alright. Apart from that, you were right.”

Darcy shook her head. “Why come all this way, like Tony said?”

“I thought I would make my point better known this way.”

Darcy crossed her arms. “No.”

“What,” Steve said, more a statement than a question.

“No, I won’t let you go. I need you.”

Tony and Pepper exchanged a glance and Steve’s face changed to something overwhelmed. Before he could say anything, Darcy rose a hand.

“I need you _because_ we argue. _Because_ you disagree with me.”

Tony cleared his throat. “Why not just give him a trial run to see what he can do?”

Darcy nodded at Tony and then turned her head to Steve.

“Well?”


	11. Part Eleven: Iowa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to update but then I wrote this and... well, you'll see why I wanted it up asap.  
> [Oh No! Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40fK1VNd3wlyUOJvuo6HI0?si=i-D8cuWcQ4Gr6fwyJwqYrw)

_"Didn't they tell you that I was a savage?_  
_Fuck your white horse and a carriage..."_

\- "Needed Me" by Rihanna

 

 

**Part Eleven: Iowa**

 

 

Cherie’s face when Steve walked in with Darcy at the headquarters in Manhattan was worth not telling her assistant in advance.

The blonde just gaped, before taking his coffee order.

“She’s nice,” Steve said, ignoring the affect he had on her and the rest of the women that began to swarm outside Darcy’s office. At one point, she sharply banged her shut door with a fist and several female ‘ow’s chorused.

Christmas was yet another non-event. Darcy managed to wrangle some time with Jane, precisely two hours before her friend was off to Mexico for a convention. Darcy was alone at the non-profit with an open bottle of wine, scrolling through Instagram and feeling alone.

Her phone buzzed and she smiled despite every attempt to not get hopeful about who might be calling her.

“Hey,” Steve said, and there was a distinct rustle in the background.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Just got home. Eating.” His mouth sounded full. “Sorry. What about you?”

“Nothing. Merlot. I’m in Queens.”

It was Christmas and she was alone. She took a sip of her drink and listened to him listening to her.

“What thrilling lives we lead,” he said, and she could picture his smile.

They were quiet and Darcy looked outside. “It’s snowing.”

“Why aren’t you home?” he asked.

The question caught Darcy off-guard and she blinked.

“I’m busy,” Darcy said.

They both knew that at that particular moment she was not busy, but Darcy used that excuses always when her mom asked her how she was. Her stepfather would usually only speak to her for a second to ask about work and then pass the phone back. It was fine.

It was just fine and she wasn’t eager to return home. She actually couldn’t stand the idea of returning again with the same story to tell every time.

“I’m busy,” she said again, because Steve said nothing. “Where were you before?”

“Mass,” he said, chewing.

“Really?” Darcy said, picturing him kneeling in a pew with his head bowed. She snorted.

“What, I’m Catholic. I can’t help it,” he said.

She wished he was there with her. Maybe the wine had gone to her head, or more likely, her crotch.

There was another pause.

“Come over.”

“No.”

She didn’t sound terse. Her voice was soft against her phone.

“Alright,” he replied. “I tried.”

-

He didn’t try again and Darcy chose to only push on and work was an obvious distraction. They moved everything to Iowa once more, gearing up for the first of the caucus votes.

The general energy was barely contained panic behind closed doors. Darcy was able to keep herself sane with endless lists, reminders on her phone and Cherie’s, constant tabs on Tony’s progress and Steve wrangling a lot of the staff with his much more commanding voice.

Darcy supposed being male helped but the Army also made him extremely diligent, holding everyone accountable. Some of Gunn’s staff came over to their side when Steve vouched for them, as they were loyal to him more than their own candidate, which Darcy supposed meant something.

Darcy’s final hurdle before the biggest day in Iowa was a TV panel she agreed to be on. She prepared with Steve and other staffers, with Carol on Skpe when she could make the time.

The night of the panel her makeup lady gave her a cat eye as per Darcy’s request. She wanted to wear it like war paint. Once she settled in her designated chair, the studio buzzing around her as the crew prepared, the host approached her.

“Miss Lewis, I’m Doug,” he said, shaking her hand. “Thank you for this. We’re banking on this a bit. Not sure if I already indicated how exhaustingly entertaining you are to watch from afar.”

Darcy found herself laughing, holding his hand probably longer than necessary. He looked like a Wall Street guy in his suit and tie but there was a boyish charm to him that she warmed to. Nothing too serious, just flirting and banter that was Darcy’s catnip.

“Thank you. Were you the one who sent me champagne yesterday?”

Doug smiled. “The very same. Well, my assistant. Claire.”

“Mine’s Cherie,” Darcy said, nodding at Cherie who stood in the background with the producers looking like a deer in headlights.

Doug smiled. “I know you haven’t done this before. I’ll be gentle.”

“Don’t you dare,” Darcy said, smiling again.

He winked. “Alright. I’ll do what I can.”

Darcy waited, other panellists filing in to sit beside her and along the long table they’d be sharing. Doug winked at her again when she caught his eye. It was flattering that he was easily distracted by her when she knew he’d done this for years.

“Fifteen seconds!”

“Okay, everybody remember to throw up before the show? Awesome,” Doug said, and Darcy laughed despite her own nerves.

Then came the countdown and Darcy took a few deep breaths, remembering that a lot was on her shoulders that night. The other people around her probably had less against them, less that had been said about them in the press.

“Welcome to Iowa Week on _Pol-Break_ ,” Doug said, his smile on while he read of the teleprompter. “With me are several representatives of the Democratic hopefuls, including Darcy Lewis who has been hiding under a rock or something for the past few weeks.”

Darcy felt everything focused on her but she only looked at Doug and smiled.

“Hello, Doug. Thank you for having me.”

She was aware this wasn’t a highbrow show but a lot of people were watching. Doug wasn’t joking when he said they were banking on her being there. Since Ainsworth’s passing the Democratic Party candidates and their staffers had become mostly a joke, but Darcy’s was the most consistently referenced campaign.

Gunn still hadn’t managed to find a replacement for Steve, from what Darcy had heard.

After a few questions concerning policy Doug allowed for more open discussion.

“It’s a tricky time to be a liberal voter these days. Would you agree with that?” he asked the only other woman on the panel, Audrey something – Darcy couldn’t remember – before turning to Darcy.

“I think voting liberal is easier than ever. There are distinct options,” Darcy said, “and once we’re past Iowa it will be clearer than ever who will be President-elect by November 5th.”

“You think Iowa will be the decider, so soon? Before even Super Tuesday?” a male panellist said, sounding somewhat incredulous. When Darcy nodded he just shook his head. “Maybe you haven’t been reading the same articles as me.”

“Congresswoman Gunn won’t secure the nomination. It’s Conrad, right?”

“Yeah,” Conrad said, not appreciating her tone by the look on his face. “But you’re wrong. Especially because of Pepper Potts.”

“You married, Conrad?” Darcy asked, and he frowned.

“Yes.”

“Does your wife’s choices reflect on you? And I mean directly, as in your character and your choices. Your free will.”

There was a hush over the panel while Darcy stared at Conrad.

“I think it’s a genuine question, Con,” Doug said.

“Would you be comfortable with a First Lady who’d admitted to having an abortion?” Conrad threw back, and Darcy smiled, knowing she’d won.

“I asked you first.”

“No,” Conrad snapped, adjusting his tie. “I don’t think my wife’s choices make up who I am.”

“So you see my point,” Darcy said, nodding at him. She managed to reel in the urge to gloat too much. “And I should correct you. Pepper Potts’ medical history was never admitted to, it was disclosed to a third party violating ethics and general common decency.”

To her utter surprise, Darcy heard Cherie begin to clap in the background before a producer shot her a glare.

Darcy licked her lips, her eyes darting to Doug.

He was looking at her differently and she didn’t mind.

Thirty minutes later the crew had dispersed and Doug was touching her shoulder with the same look on his face.

Darcy told Cherie to meet her outside when Doug took her to his dressing room.

Ten minutes after that Darcy was pulling her suit pants back on, smiling at him.

“I’ll ask you to come back,” Doug said, breathless and sweaty with his hair mussed. “You’re a scream.”

It was the right thing to say. Darcy smiled at him like a cat.

-

Wolf Blitzer was ten times his usual size on the plasma screen in front of the staffers who were all opening bottles of whatever liquor they could find, liquid being poured into Styrofoam cups.

Darcy was handed a cup filled with the champagne Doug sent over, holding it high.

“Iowa, bitches!” she yelled, the whole room chorusing her, including Steve beside her.

 _“The results are in – Tony Stark has Iowa. We’re crossing to Kenneth Jones in Des Moines for more details_ ,” Wolf said, and there were several screams of triumph among the staffers.

Darcy began to laugh at the sight of the correspondent standing in front of the Des Moines town hall, his microphone poised.

“Oh, my God it’s Ken! My Ken,” she yelled, pointing. It was the same Ken that exposed her Twitter a year ago. He looked dapper and happy. He must have secretly rooted for her all along.

_“Wolf, there’s euphoria from Tony Stark’s camp and it’s catching. Locals have been setting off red and gold fireworks for Iron Man. I’m just hoping pets are safe tonight.”_

“Oh, he’s so cute,” Cherie said, looking practically wistful as they stared at Ken’s face.

Steve began to laugh with Darcy and Cherie blushed.

“No, you’re right. He’s cute,” Darcy said, patting her arm. “I just think you’re a lightweight and need to remember you’re actually underage –”

Like a mother hen, she took the rest of Cherie’s drink and downed it in two gulps while Steve watched.

She wished Tony was there but he had already headed back to the hotel when they heard the vote count half an hour ago. Pepper was still only making appearances in places without advertising too much about it. January had been kind to them but Darcy knew Pepper was still rightly afraid of the press.

Darcy sent Cherie off to hang around the younger staffers and she turned to Steve who was still watching the TV.

“You should be proud,” she said, and he met her gaze.

“For sure,” he said, and he sounded like her more than himself when he said it, channelling her confidence. “Except you may have had something to do with it.”

Darcy’s eyebrows quirked. “Wow. Maybe? _Steven_.”

He glanced at her mouth which Darcy had painted firetruck red that night.

“Maybe,” he concurred, his voice low. 

Darcy moved away, a signal that she wanted physical and emotional space, something she knew he hated though never said. Being beside him too long made her stomach flip and she was edging toward too flirty.

“I’m gonna go get drunk,” she said, gesturing toward the table of bottles that were open several feet away, and Steve nodded with his eyes finally leaving her.

She poured herself more champagne remembering Doug’s smile and what happened after the show.

_You’re a scream._

“Steve!”

Darcy spun around to see a familiar face walking toward Steve, her arms wide.

It was Sharon from New York. Darcy looked down at her cup and listened.

“You made it!” Steve said, and Darcy glanced their way to see him kiss Sharon on the cheek and hug her.

Their voices lowered and Darcy blinked furiously, her chest feeling tighter. She took a sip of her drink and hated the taste, the bubbles felt close to burning.

Steve and Sharon whispered together and Darcy put her cup down, walking away as she took her phone out. She dialled Doug’s number, hoping she didn’t sound out of breath when he picked up.

-

The next morning, Darcy rolled over to see Doug pulling his shoes on with his back to her.

“I have to go.”

“That’s fine,” Darcy said, sitting up with the blankets around her naked upper half.

She’d slept in her makeup and she didn’t want to move just yet. The memories of last night were coming back, the highest of highs and the crushing lows.

She wanted to slap herself for suddenly acting like such a romantic. She was so off her game it wasn’t funny, but Doug didn’t seem to notice.

His wedding band glinted in the light that came through the window. He seemed a little off. Guilt had set in, maybe.

“I didn’t mean to stay the night.”

“I know,” she murmured. It didn’t seem to comfort him.

“I told Claire to – _cover_ for me,” he said, tucking his shirt in clumsily. “But we can’t do this too often so soon.”

“You don’t have to break it to me gently, Doug,” Darcy muttered, rolling her eyes. “I’m a big girl.”

He flashed her a smile. “That’s what I like about you. You get it.”

Oh. Why did that suddenly hurt? Darcy glanced away, feeling a lump in her throat. To distract herself she redressed, checking around to see if Doug might have missed anything.

She handed him his watch and he smiled again, but Darcy just felt worse.

When she opened her hotel room door to let him out, she glanced around, checking to see if there was any sign of life in the hallway. She was aware of Steve being across the hallway from her and waited for a minute before nodding to Doug.

“I’ll call you,” he whispered, kissing her forehead and then her mouth. He was greedy and it made Darcy pull back quicker than she usually would.

There was a click and Darcy’s eyes widened, hearing someone’s door open.

She and Doug were done kissing but there was no doubting that he was there with her in the hallway trying to sneak out and Steve had just caught them red-handed dressed for the gym.

“Oh, hey, man,” Doug said, taking a distinct step back from Darcy as he clutched at his jacket.

If Doug was panicking he was very good at concealing it.

Steve just replied, “Hey.”

Doug glanced at Darcy, giving one last wink before turning his heels and practically bolting toward the fire exit instead of using the elevator.

Darcy turned to look at Steve but saw that he’d gone back inside, his door shut behind him.

-

Darcy scrubbed away what she could of last night but she couldn’t stop thinking about how Sharon and Steve looked together, so happy and simple. She couldn’t get the image of Steve’s face looking at her and Doug in the hallway out of her head, either.

She found Cherie and they went back to headquarters. They already needed to be preparing for the next vote and they couldn’t become too cocky when there was still such a long climb ahead of them. The DNC was only six months away.

Tony was there, looking around at all the empty bottles and cups.

“Looks like a frat house,” he murmured, and Cherie looked guilty though she had nothing to do with it. Tony waved it off. “Anyway. Big week done.”

“Bigger year to go,” Darcy replied, and he nodded at her.

Cherie went off to get coffee and Tony glanced around.

“Where’s Cap?” he said, and Darcy crossed her arms.

“I’m not his keeper.”

“He’s still your subordinate,” Tony countered. “Something happen?”

“Why does something need to have happened to –?” Darcy cut herself off, hating how petty she sounded. “It’s nothing. His lady friend showed up.”

“Which one?”

“Sharon,” Darcy replied. “I’m sure his trial has been prosperous for you and he’ll be here soon enough trying to kick your ass into gear.”

“We could get Carol Danvers down here. I like her energy,” Tony said, and Darcy gave him a long look.

“What?” Tony snapped. “What did I do?”

“Fucking men,” Darcy muttered under her breath making her way to her office as Tony followed her.

The next couple hours were fine. They mostly went over schedules again with Cherie. They’d have to outline the next couple debates since Gunn was asking for one as soon as possible.

“When do we mention climate change?” Darcy asked, and Tony’s brows lifted.

“I’d do it next debate if it comes up.”

“Really?” Darcy said, pen poised. “Already?”

Tony shrugged. “Get someone to crunch numbers or whatever it is you do and figure out if that’s too ballsy a move.”

“No such thing as too ballsy for Darcy,” came a voice, and Darcy looked up to see Steve standing in her doorway and she felt her stomach drop.

She glanced down. “You took your time.”

“Had a big night,” Steve replied, making his way over to her side of the desk and looking at her notes over her shoulder. “Debate on the 3rd? Already?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, and she could feel the heat of his body close to her.

He nodded, and then cleared his throat. He glanced at Cherie and Tony.

“Can I have a minute alone with her?”

Tony blinked. “Uh. Sure. I’ll go see a guy about a dog or whatever the saying is.”

He rose from his chair, Cherie copying him. Her eyes were predictably like saucers, and Darcy wondered what was running through their minds. She’d undoubtedly be asked later by Tony.

“Close the door, Cherie. Please,” Steve called, and the blonde obliged.

Darcy’s heartrate picked up, rich and threatening to make her heart explode. He still stood by her, while Darcy kept her face down regarding the papers with her pen underlining text, the act serving no purpose but distraction.

“You took no time at all with Doug Harlock,” he said, his voice low. Darcy swallowed. He wasn’t scolding her. His tone seemed pointed. He was above the layer of what he really meant, so Darcy would do the same.

“How was Sharon last night?” she asked, circling ‘March’ over and over, waiting for a reprimand.

“Isn’t Harlock married?” he asked, and she seemed to miss the mark by his tone. He didn’t even sigh or tut at her mention of his friend.

“Yes,” Darcy said. “First time was after the show, the second was when I got bored at the party. The third –”

“You are shameless,” he murmured, and Darcy heard him move but she still didn’t turn her head.

“Apparently, I am –”

She felt the full weight of him against her, the heat of his bulk against her back and ass, pressing her into the desk. She had no time to react except gasp, as Steve’s hand came up to her throat, tilting her head back as he clasped her. Darcy dropped the pen, her hands attempting to reach his fingers that held her steady. He was quicker, managing to manoeuvre her so that her hand was flat against the desk with his fingers wrapped around her wrist. Her left arm was stuck between them, fingers wriggling uselessly as he still pinned her between the desk and his crotch.

For a second, she thought he might actually kill her. She knew he easily could. He could break her neck. And somehow, Darcy had never been more turned on in her life.

She heard him speak again, his lips so close to her skin that when he moved his mouth to form the words it was like the ghost of a kiss.

“I’m testing a theory.”

She whimpered, actually whimpered when he spoke. She couldn’t find the words to fight back, to throw another punch.

“I thought so,” he murmured, lips brushing. Darcy’s whole body was goose bumps and she wondered if Steve could feel them break out along her neck and arm.

She wriggled her fingers again and she grunted, wanting to reach him somehow. She even longed to brush his pants leg, something – anything –

“You want me to put you in your place, Darcy.”

She _did_. She did want that. She huffed, fingers desperate.

“Stop,” he commanded, and she stilled.

For ten long seconds she waited, closing her eyes, his scent everywhere. She could almost taste him. At long last he spoke again.

“When you’re done fucking around and grow up, come see me.”

They separated and Darcy finally let go the breath she’d been holding. A lock of her hair fell in her face but she didn’t move to tuck it away, just kept staring down while Steve moved out from behind her.

He walked out of her office without another word while Darcy began to shake.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [me rn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFeVfwDvTyM)


	12. Part Twelve: Super Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a lot of butterflies while writing this. Enjoy! ♡  
> [Oh No! Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40fK1VNd3wlyUOJvuo6HI0?si=i-D8cuWcQ4Gr6fwyJwqYrw)

_"I never did believe in miracles_  
_But I've a feeling it's time to try..."_

\- "You Make Loving Fun" by Fleetwood Mac

 

 

**Part Twelve: Super Tuesday**

 

 

After that moment in her office in Des Moines, Steve was never alone in the same room with Darcy again, not for weeks.

It hurt more than Darcy could ever say, and she did the opposite of what he wanted her to do. The fact that he called it “fucking around” made it sound like she was doing it to betray him when they’d never even said what they really felt about each other.

Darcy couldn’t ignore it anymore – this secret _something_ between them that grew in the dark. It made her think of mushrooms on a carcass.

She had Doug again and then four other guys she picked up on the road and in between meetings. She couldn’t tell them apart. The only thing that they had in common was their desire for her and her complete lack of attraction toward them.

The way Steve told her off like that, like she was being a child – he knew her well enough to know that got under her skin. She despised anyone treating her as less than the best. He knew her. He knew her and he told her to ‘come find him’. Did that mean she had to come crawling back to him, begging he fuck her hard? She couldn’t stand the idea of admitting he had her, and her pride was wounded.

Cherie became as much Steve’s as she was Darcy since he often used her for passing messages without having to pick up his phone or stick his head in an office. If any of the staffers noticed a change in Steve’s and Darcy’s relationship, they didn’t dare comment on it in front of Darcy.

Gunn postponed the March debate and Tony lost New Hampshire. He got Michigan, Nevada, Florida and South Carolina. Though Darcy was over the moon because of those good results, there was still so much more to go, and there were constant estimates to deal with and articles every day with a new hopeful.

Darcy took a trip to see Carol in Illinois, finally seeing her in her official setting. Carol was ecstatic to see her, taking her by the hand and walking with her to show her around her headquarters. Her assistant Babs shook Darcy’s hand, tearing up a little.

“Okay, Babs,” Carol said, patting her arm. “You’ll scare her.”

“I’m just so happy we’ve got a woman like her running the campaign for Tony Stark. I would have cussed that reporter out in Iowa, too, honey.”

Darcy believed her, and nodded. Babs waved them off.

“She’s a big ol’ softie, Babs,” Carol said, pulling Darcy along. “Just like me.”

Darcy laughed, but stopped abruptly as they walked into Carol’s office. On the wall above Carol’s desk hung a familiar image on a canvas. Darcy couldn’t put her finger on it.

“You like her?” Carol said, smiling up at the drawing of the sad girl looking out the window. “She kind of looks like you. She’s got your eyes.”

Carol looked at Darcy and then back at the drawing. “And your lips, I think.”

“Who drew that?” Darcy blurted, pointing.

She felt inexplicable butterflies. Carol blinked.

“Steve. It was his first draft.”

Darcy burst into tears, covering her mouth with one hand. As she sobbed, Carol’s eyes widened.

Darcy had never cried in front of her before and it was probably very scary and confusing since Darcy never told her about the art gallery incident with Steve. The girl in the drawing did have her mouth, and her eyes. He was always looking at her even when they were on rival campaigns.

When did she look sad? Maybe when she didn’t think anyone was looking, but he had been evidently.

Carol put her hands on her shoulders.

“Hey, hey,” she whispered. “What is it?”

Darcy trembled, sobbing into her hands while Carol struggled to contain her.

“Darcy, what happened?”

All she could manage to do was cry and shake her head, sniffling while she shook. Eventually, her sobs died down, a headache coming on.

She took a deep breath as Carol squeezed her hand.

“I’m a piece of shit.”

“Hardly,” Carol retorted. “Hey, that’s my friend Darcy you’re talking about.”

“I’m serious,” Darcy said, looking into Carol’s eyes. “I’m a real piece of work and I’ve fucked up a lot of things in my life.”

“How -?”

“Steve,” Darcy managed to whisper. “I keep trying to fuck him over with games…”

She wasn’t sure if she could really get into it. As much as she loved Carol, Steve had known her longer and Darcy admitting to doing those shitty things may cause Carol to lose all respect for her.

“He thinks the world of you,” Carol said, and Darcy narrowed her eyes slightly.

“I don’t think so anymore. And anyway – he probably hates me more than ever now.”

Darcy sniffed loudly, rolling her eyes.

“Stupid. So stupid,” she muttered. “I can’t believe I’m like this now. I used to catch men like catching bears with honey.”

“It’s not that fulfilling,” Carol murmured, and Darcy had to nod.

“I used to think I didn’t want it, something more,” she mumbled. “A guy told me once that I fuck like a man – I just take and leave.”

Carol licked her lips, hesitating. “This isn’t about gender roles, Darce. You’re not happy.”

“No. Tony’s way ahead, my non-profit is already over a million dollars richer and I’m not happy. I’m not happy,” Darcy muttered, disgusted. “I don’t want to care.”

“Why?” Carol asked.

Darcy avoided her gaze, shrugging.

“No, really. Why? Who told you you were a bad person and then you decided to be the person people thought they saw you as?” Carol said, her eyes fierce. “You think you have to act heartless like people say you are. Doesn’t Tony Stark do the same when people tell him he only cares about himself and his money?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, sniffing.

“What did you do to Steve that was supposedly so shitty?” Carol asked, pinning Darcy with her stare.

“It’s not good,” Darcy warned, but Carol just waited. Darcy sighed. “I made sure he knew I slept with Doug Harlock… just to rub it in his face.”

Carol rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’d piss him off.”

Darcy skipped the other things she did, like the masturbation phone call or the teasing at the art gallery. She couldn’t imagine Carol wanting that information.

“When I met you in Queens,” Carol began, and Darcy looked up at her. “I called Steve after I left and he said ‘that girl’s a pain in my ass’.”

Darcy’s eyebrows raised as she nodded.

“But he said all gross and soppy,” Carol added, making a face. “So imagine my disbelief when you say he must despise you.”

Darcy felt herself smile just barely. Carol squeezed her hand.

“He says people are jackasses all the time, but he’s never said that about someone with _that_ tone before.”

-

Super Tuesday. Nothing super about it except its size, which was set to make Darcy’s head explode from the sheer amount of things to do and keep tabs on.

Cherie had to buy new shoes. Darcy knew this because her assistant was running to get her a Red Bull and slipped, her left shoe’s heel actually snapping right off and flying across the office.

Every staffer was now working in the sea of cubicles, Darcy included. Her office was now out of bounds to everyone so that communication couldn’t be obscured by walls or hallways. Darcy avoided glancing Steve’s way too much as he sat several feet away from her on the phone, finding numbers and confirming them for the whiteboard.

“If there’s a debate next week someone better buy me a case of –”

Darcy paused midway through her sentence, shaking her head. She would have said a case of some kind of alcohol but she couldn’t think of the name. She didn’t know why, all she was doing was waiting on the phone to her source to confirm New York’s primary numbers.

She took the phone away from her ear, shaking her head again. She glanced at the time on her laptop’s clock. Her hands felt funny, tingling almost.

“Uh,” she muttered, and she looked up, seeing both Cherie and Steve staring at her, his phone still at his ear.

“We got Illinois,” he said, and Darcy nodded.

“Good. Uh.”

“Darcy?”

She shook her head, ignoring Cherie’s concern. She felt dizzy, rubbing her eyes.

“Maybe too many Red Bulls. I think I need some air.”

She got up, shaking. She was still dizzy but she thought she might be able to walk it off as she made her way to the elevator outside, pressing the button for the rooftop.

Manhattan February air would clear her lungs, too. She couldn’t breathe so easily in the elevator. Her heart had begun to race. Too much caffeine. She definitely needed Cherie to put a limit on her and stick to it, and that included whatever watered down stuff Starbucks slung their way.

“Goddamn it,” Darcy muttered, feeling ill. Her chest hurt and she winced. When she finally reached the rooftop she shoved the heavy door with all her weight to let herself out.

The air hit her but she kept gasping for it like she was in a swimming pool unable to touch the bottom with her toes. Oh, great. So now she was hyperventilating. She stumbled over to the vent and pressed her back against it, sliding down until her ass hit the ground. She felt tears of panic fill her eyes and she gasped again, looking up.

She could hear the city around her but everything felt far away. She tried to remember she was on something solid and not actually floating toward the moon.

There was a slam and Darcy glanced toward the sound, seeing Steve march over to her. She scrambled to her feet in panic, tears falling as her eyes grew wider than ever.

“Sit back down,” he said, and she did, struggling for air and watching him come closer, squatting in front of her and touching her leg with one hand.

“Darcy, you’re okay,” he said, and Darcy looked up at the sky, shaking her head.

“I feel like I’ve been poisoned.”

“You’re having a panic attack.”

She glanced at him, shaking her head. “I don’t get those.”

“People aren’t born with them,” he replied, though there was nothing irritable about how he said it. His hand left her leg and he tugged at one of her arms.

“I’m gonna check your pulse,” he murmured, his large fingers going for her wrist.

He waited, steady eyes on hers.

“How do you know about this?”

“Army. And Carol,” he said, and Darcy blinked. “You know where you are? Can you breathe?”

“Yes, and no,” Darcy replied, blinking some more. She remembered she’d started to cry and used her spare hand to wipe her face.

“Breathe through your nose and out through your mouth,” Steve said, his voice soft. Darcy stared at his mouth at he spoke, nodding.

She obeyed, feeling a rush of something like relief, and the cold finally hit her. Her teeth began to chatter.

“You’re okay. You’re safe,” Steve said, taking his hand away. “I have Xanax in my bag downstairs. You should see a doctor about a prescription in case this happens again.”

“Why do you have Xanax?” Darcy asked.

“Carol. I got in the habit of carrying them with me whenever I was with her. Now I just have them for moments like this,” he murmured.

Darcy nodded, shivering. She still didn’t want to leave the rooftop just yet.

“I’m sorry, for Iowa,” she whispered, and Steve’s face changed. He seemed surprised. “You weren’t expecting that from me, huh?”

He gave a small smile. “No.”

“I slept with Doug and –”

Steve held up a hand. “I don’t have to hear about it.”

“Let me finish!” Darcy snapped, and Steve’s eyes flashed at her petulance. “It happened after _Pol-Break_ and it was great. Just fun.”

“I really, really don’t want to hear about how great it was,” Steve muttered.

“It wasn’t fun after I saw you with Sharon. And it hasn’t been fun since,” Darcy added, and Steve passed a hand over his face.

“Can we talk about this inside where you won’t freeze your butt off?” he muttered, and Darcy burst out laughing.

Her heart was racing but not because it was the night of Super Tuesday and she’d had a panic attack. Although she kept herself hidden from Steve he was still the one who knew her best, and he was about to know everything.

“Steve,” she said, touching his sleeve. She gave him his name and he noticed, swallowing and staring at her with his jaw tight.

“I wanted to best you and it wasn’t worth it,” she said. “I know now you’re not the type of guy I can just fuck with.”

He wanted her and it showed on his face. He licked his lips, which only made Darcy want to clamp her legs together.

“I think you’re dying to know what it’s like to _really_ fuck with me, Darcy.”

Darcy tilted her head back, exposing more of her neck. She shivered.

“Hmm.”

She pushed her legs apart a little more and Steve watched, an eyebrow quirking.

“As tempting as that is,” he said, nodding to her lower half. “It’s freezing out here and we’ve got work to do.”

“I can practice begging,” Darcy said, her heart in her throat. “I’m a fast learner.”

He moved back, standing. He offered her a hand and she took it, surprised at how secretly strong he was. She had some vague idea when he grabbed her by the throat the other time and she couldn’t wait to see more of it.

“Cool it,” he whispered.

She felt so much. Relief and joy. Anxiety and dread. So much longing. She glanced down at his crotch and her eyes widened at the distinct outline of his erection pressing up against the fabric of his slacks.

“Holy shit,” she murmured, and Steve tugged her along, pulling her through the door back inside.

They stood in the elevator in silence, until Darcy opened her mouth.

“You need to simmer down, sweetheart,” he murmured, cutting her off before she started.

“I was just gonna offer to help you out.” She tried to sound as innocent as possible. The ‘sweetheart’ may have set her off. Her night was anything but normal.

“Figures I avoid you for weeks and then you offer helping me out in an _office elevator_ ,” Steve muttered, smirking. His eyes were bright and consuming her. “I’m not doing anything where people might hear you.”

Darcy quirked an eyebrow. “Seem pretty sure of yourself, Captain.”

“What was that thing you said about begging?” he threw back. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I thought that was exactly –” Darcy’s hand went to his front, gliding up his shirt to meet his neck, fingers grazing his Adam’s apple. “-what I was doing.”

He caught her wrist. “Enough.”

The elevator stopped and they broke apart, Steve brushing his shirt and taking a deep breath. Darcy got out first, saw his eyes were watching her walk in front of him.

-

It was too close to call. Darcy offered a compromise with the staffers. Those who came in earliest that day were allowed to sleep for a couple hours while they waited for the West Coast results.

She looked at Steve and nodded.

“Sleep in my office,” she said, and he frowned.

“You came in before me today,” he said, and she nodded. “You sure?”

Darcy nodded again. She’d had the Xanax and had accepted the night for what it was – a revelatory experience that was completely overwhelming and maybe drugs were a good idea.

Steve walked past her on his way to her office and brushed her clavicle with his fingers, making her shiver. She was grateful no-one else noticed.

Tony called around 1AM from Malibu.

“Primaries, huh?” he muttered. “Could have sworn we’d get more southern states.”

It was annoying that estimates were only just that – a glimpse at what might be. Some were way off. They hadn’t expected Florida. They knew New Hampshire was guaranteed to be Gunn’s. California was the bigger one that Darcy fretted over.

“Maybe we should have done a rally outside your house in Malibu,” Darcy said, her eyes glued to the TV screen in front of the other staffers that showed C-SPAN. She bit her lip. “I think –”

“Hey, it’s over. This part, at least,” Tony replied. “Where’s Cap?”

“Sleeping.”

Darcy waited for him to make some other comment but he didn’t. They were both too worked up by the craziest day of their campaign so far. Tony had shook so many hands that he’d run out of hand sanitizer twice, or at least that was according to Pepper’s text.

“You okay?”

Tony’s voice was softer and knowing. Darcy could picture his face as he said it, too.

“Yeah, I will be,” she murmured, clearing her throat. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

This was where she was meant to say she loved him, right? She got that feeling whenever Tony called, and despite any stressed it caused her and all the sleepless nights he was a true friend. She still thought about how Howard Stark’s face made her stop in her tracks months ago in Tony’s basement.

“We’ll work it out,” Tony replied. “See you, Short Stack.”

Darcy leaned on one elbow and watched TV instead of checking Twitter for anyone’s commentary or witticisms. There wasn’t much else she could do.

It was 10 to 13. Tony was just ahead. Super Tuesday wasn’t going to decide everything, which made it that much harder to stop Darcy’s brain from working overtime. She heard California and closed her eyes, relieved.

“Yes,” she whispered.

She got up from her chair and walked down the hallway, seeing her the door to her office was shut. She reached for the doorknob and turned it carefully, seeing the light was switched off.

She ducked inside, closing the door behind her softly. She glanced over at her small couch and saw Steve sleeping on his back, his jacket as his blanket while he slept. She crept over, kneeling as she approached him.

“Hey,” she whispered, her hand touching his shoulder and rubbing. “Steve.”

His eyes snapped open and he hissed, “I’m up, I’m up.”

He looked around, remembering where he was. He took in Darcy kneeling beside him and his face softened.

“We got California,” she said, and his eyes widened.

“Are you serious?” he said, and Darcy nodded.

They laughed together, relieved.

“Oh, my God,” he said, rubbing his face. “Tony got California.”

“Yeah, but – it’s too close to call. We won’t know from today’s polls.”

Steve nodded, pushing his jacket off his lower half and sitting up, taller than Darcy who still knelt on the floor.

“Hey,” he said again, as if they were starting the conversation again.

Darcy smiled. “Hey.”

“You good down there?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, voice small.

They just looked at one another in the dark, Darcy’s heart beating faster.

“Come here,” he said, and she nodded.

He caught her by the waist when she was close enough and pressed his lips to hers, and Darcy sighed, closing her eyes. She slipped her arms around his neck, feeling him so warm under his shirt. His lips were soft yet hard against hers, and Darcy moved back, searching his eyes. His breath was hot against her mouth.

One of his hands gathered at the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair and holding her steady. He caught her in another kiss, his tongue gently plying her mouth open. Darcy sighed again, his tongue sweeping inside and claiming her. He pulled her over so she settled with his knee between her legs, his feet planted on the floor.

He finally drew back, Darcy panting and he licked his lips.

“You taste nice,” he murmured.

“Fuck,” she hissed, and his eyes grew darker.

She didn’t want him to stop, the hard grip of him as she kissed him again, hands cupping his face. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and tugged, before licking at his teeth with the very tip of her tongue. She never kissed like this. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had ever kissed her like this, either. Maybe nobody ever had before. When he moved back, the pair of them breathless, Darcy made a frustrated, needy sound at the back of her throat. Without realising it, she’d been rubbing up against his leg as her hips rocked and she stopped, Steve’s eyes going to the crotch of her jeans.

“You okay?” he asked, and Darcy frowned.

“Don’t make fun of me,” she hissed, kissing him again, making her way down his jaw and neck with lips, tongue and teeth.

She felt the vibrations of his voice when she kissed him all over his neck.

“Darcy, slow down.”

“I don’t want to,” she whispered, but he pulled her gently up to meet his face again.

“ _I_ want you to slow down,” he said, kissing her mouth again. “You should sleep.”

“You don’t want to -?”

He caught her in another kiss, swallowing her words. Darcy’s head was spinning again.

“Trust me, I _really_ fucking want to,” he whispered as they broke apart, and Darcy’s stomach flipped. “But this isn’t the time or place for it.”

She could argue it wouldn’t take much to get her off, but he had a point. She needed to be less selfish. She nodded, biting her lip.

He moved to sit on the very end of the couch, and Darcy sat beside him, her head falling to his shoulder as she closed her eyes, bringing her feet up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Several chapters back EmSonderling asked if Steve had any art at the exhibit. So kudos to her for asking all the right questions. Also, Fleetwood Mac snuck in there because... well.... I'm a romantic.


	13. Part Thirteen: Choke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! For real this time!  
> [Oh No! Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40fK1VNd3wlyUOJvuo6HI0?si=i-D8cuWcQ4Gr6fwyJwqYrw)  
> I finally made a corresponding [moodboard](https://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/post/182701976123/oh-no-moodboard-i-know-you-like-to-pretend) for this fic!

_"If it keeps on rainin' levee's goin' to break..."_

\- "When the Levee Breaks" by Led Zeppelin

 

 

**Part Thirteen: Choke**

 

 

Darcy woke with Steve’s jacket draped over her with him gone. She instantly missed him but told herself to keep it together because Steve made a fair point before. There was a time and a place of them and work wasn’t it.

She brushed her hair and used her emergency toothbrush she stashed in a little bag in her desk drawer along with her mouthwash, hoping she looked like death than she felt. She walked out into the hallway, looking around to see who’d stayed and who’d gone home or to their hotel.

Cherie bounded up to her, coffee in hand. “Steve went out first,” she said with a broad smile, looking extraordinarily chipper. Darcy’s eyes were drawn to the mark on Cherie’s neck.

“Uh,” she said, but she didn’t point in case Cherie wasn’t aware the hickey was there. She wasn’t about to squash her anxiety-prone assistant’s good morning. “You got a scarf?”

“Oh!” Cherie gasped, handing Darcy her coffee and running off. She didn’t seem mortified, just forgetful.

Darcy watched with amusement, Cherie retrieving a thick scarf that hung on the back of her chair.

The same morning happened more or less every time for a week, and Darcy no longer tried to hit on Steve shamelessly when they were alone. They kissed often enough, often Steve just sticking his head through her doorway while she stood just inside when they had a spare second. Darcy was frustrated but spare seconds became such a rarity that she was content with knowing he didn’t want to stop being around her. Sometimes he caught her wrist in one hand to stop her and squeeze, a gentle acknowledgement. Darcy felt his eyes on her when she took off a sweater or bent to retrieve something.

With the flurry of those exciting feelings inside her, there were also real feelings of stress and fear. The next debate might be the last one, and Congresswoman Gunn had stopped being polite when she gave interviews.

_“Tony Stark will not be a safe President. I firmly believe in there being a danger for all citizens where an Iron Man militia is concerned.”_

They were watching her interview on the projector in the conference room. Steve was one of the few people standing, crossing his arms and regarding Gunn shrewdly.

“She’s not going to endorse Tony,” Darcy mused, and Steve nodded.

“But she has to, doesn’t she?” Cherie asked, her eyes wide. “It’s her party.”

“Maybe she’ll quit politics,” someone else said.

Darcy shook her head. “Maybe she’ll be a thorn in Tony’s side.”

“How well does he do with thorns?” Steve asked her, and she smiled.

“Pretty well considering those hearings he used to attend about Iron Man.”

Steve nodded. “We need every minute revised. Every minute.”

“He does well when he improvises,” Darcy countered, and Steve shook his head.

“No, he sounds like an arrogant prick when he’s improvising,” he replied.

He licked his lips, gaze still resting on Darcy.

“Could everyone -?” Darcy started, and she turned her head to see the others filing out, including Cherie who shut the door behind her, leaving Steve and Darcy alone.

“They are very well trained,” Darcy said, feeling a sense of pride.

“Darcy, we have to keep Tony in line,” Steve said, taking a seat and dragging it over to sit opposite her.

Darcy’s foot touched his leg. “You know he’ll win if it comes from the heart.”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding exhausted. “I’m just sure she’ll throw him under the bus.”

“We’ve got this.”

“Okay,” he murmured. He looked at her foot and smiled at Darcy.

“I thought you’d stopped being cheeky,” he said, and Darcy smiled, stomach flipping.

“Points for trying?” she said, and he caught her ankle, pulling her toward him.

They spent another ten minutes making out only to have Steve rest his face in her neck, groaning.

“Back to work,” he mumbled.

-

“HEY!” Carol screamed, coming at Darcy with her arms wide. She wore her maroon blazer over her navy dress, her pin shining.

They were standing in the rooms behind the convention hall. Darcy wore her Mob Boss outfit – a fitted blazer with a pencil skirt and big gold clip-on earrings bigger than one of her knuckles. Steve wore a suit and stood by while Carol hugged Darcy tightly.

“Hey, you,” Carol said to him, bringing him into a hug. “Where’s Tony?”

“Running late, as always,” Steve said, sounding only slightly grumpy about it. Darcy supposed Carol helped. “That rally today was amazing.”

“Tony makes it easy for me, I’d love to be his running mate,” Carol replied, shrugging one shoulder.

“Yeah, can’t say I agree with the thirty-five year age requirement,” Darcy said, thumbing through some more notes Cherie shoved at her ten minutes ago. “Closing statement is still – what?”

“Perseverance?” Steve asked, and Darcy shook her head. “Strength and honor?”

“Don’t encourage him,” Darcy said to Carol, who’d started to giggle. “No, it was –”

A familiar brunette came into view and Darcy froze, recognizing Congresswoman Gunn as she walked past, an assistant at her side with a lint roller and a bottle of water at the ready.

Gunn paused, turning mid-step. She waved the girl away, making Darcy dread whatever was about to happen. She glanced up at Steve who’d turned to stone. Carol didn’t bother with a fake smile.

“Hello, Miss Lewis,” Gunn said, offering her hand.

Darcy took it only because expected her not to. The woman’s face looked pinched. She seemed to have aged, or perhaps she’d always looked like that and Darcy was only seeing her clearly for the first time.

“Hello, Miranda,” Darcy replied. She felt Steve touch her arm and she remembered not too get too close in case a picture could be taken.

“Steven,” Gunn added, giving him a nod.

He didn’t say a word to her, his face like stone.

“I think we should talk alone,” Gunn said to Darcy. Steve caught her sleeve in warning. It was definitely a bad idea, which was why Darcy nodded and walked off with her to another corner, their heads bent.

Her heart was racing. She turned her head slightly to see Steve and Carol bickering. She pursed her lips at Gunn and looked her up and down.

“You’ve got less than ten minutes before you go on stage, ’Randa,” she said, and she saw Gunn’s brows furrow with irritation before they melted back to neutral.

“I want you to know that whatever happens isn’t personal,” she said, hands together. “It’s just politics.”

“That’s _my family_ you went after,” Darcy said, and already her voice was sharp. “Pepper and Morgan were innocent.”

“Whatever you think you know about me is not true.”

Darcy tilted her head. “Really? Steve is lying about you? Shocker.”

“I wouldn’t recommend having personal relationships within your own campaign,” Gunn added, her dimples making her face more punchable to Darcy than ever. “You say they’re your family but you’re only there until they no longer want to use you.”

“Like Steve was to you?” Darcy said, narrowing her eyes.

“Steve Rogers was fired for not being supportive of a female boss,” she said, smile still present.

“You use feminism when it’s convenient for you,” Darcy said. “Remember how I called you worthless?”

Gunn chuckled, her face changing to something more sinister.

“You will regret not being on my side.”

“Says the _loser_.”

Gunn looked over Darcy’s shoulder at Steve. Darcy didn’t like that at all, and all she wanted to do was find a way to sink her nails into Gunn without it turning into assault charges put against her.

“Did he tell you why he left the Army?”

Darcy glared at her. “It doesn’t matter.”

Gunn laughed. “Right. So you don’t know about him getting another soldier killed? Bucky Barnes.”

When Darcy only narrowed her eyes at her, Gunn shrugged a shoulder.

“Well, what do I know? He was only my campaign manager before he met you.”

She walked off and Darcy clenched her fists, stalking back to Steve and Carol.

“You okay?” Carol asked, and Darcy grit her teeth.

“I’m fine.”

“That’s good, because you look like you’re about to sucker punch a Congresswoman,” Carol said, and all three of them watched Gunn reading notes an aide passed her. Her makeup girl was powdering her face.

“Hey, I’m here!”

They all turned to see Tony and Pepper running in with Morgan being tugged along. Pepper was the only one who looked sheepish.

“Tony,” Darcy said, and Tony gave her a big smile.

“Morgan threw up in the car over.”

“Oh, Monkey,” Darcy whispered, giving Morgan’s face a stroke. “Your poor tummy.”

Pepper sounded out of breath. “Funny how you don’t prep for carsick children, and you prep for literally everything else.”

“I’m Carol,” Carol said, offering a hand.

“Oh, right, sorry Carol,” Pepper said with a laugh. “I’m losing my mind.”

Pepper had not been at the rally that day. She was still avoiding a lot of the press but phoning in the debate would send the wrong message. Darcy took a second to tug Tony aside while the makeup girl powdered him. Tony adjusted his tie, winking at Darcy. Steve touched the small of her back to indicate he was there and listening and underneath the anxiety Darcy felt a warm longing to touch him back.

“T-minus however many minutes it is,” Darcy began, talking to Tony like a coach before a bout. “We have nothing to lose, and so much to gain.”

She knew that was the opposite of the truth but talking in grandiose ways usually helped settle herself.

“Closing statement?” Darcy asked, and Tony paused.

“I thought I had it in the car but then Morgan –” Tony stared blankly. “I lost it.”

Steve let out a laugh that sounded incredulous. “We don’t have an closing statement.”

Darcy blinked. “Okay. Okay. Okay.”

“Darcy?”

“Just shut up, both of you,” Darcy snapped, flapping her hands.

“Two minutes, people!”

Where the hell did that producer come from? The interruption caused Darcy’s stomach to drop and her adrenaline kicked her heartrate up to nearly the same speed as Super Tuesday.

She grabbed Tony’s arm. “Wait. Just – humanity. Mention Morgan when it comes to climate change. And your humanity when Gunn goes after you for being Iron Man.”

“What does that mean?” Tony asked, and Darcy cleared her throat.

“You made mistakes but you’re human and politicians are human.”

She glanced at Steve. “Right?”

“That…” he paused to think. “That works. When JFK gave a speech after the Cuban Missile Crisis his approval rating –”

“-skyrocketed,” Darcy finished, nodding. “Yeah? It works?”

“Good enough for me, kids,” Tony said, giving a short wave. “I’ve got about ten seconds.”

Pepper came over, smiling nervously. “Okay, honey.”

“Yep, okay.”

“Humanity and Morgan, Tony,” Darcy said, and he met her gaze. “You are not your father but you have his wisdom. You _might just_ reach your potential.”

Tony nodded. “Short Stack.”

She knew then that he was telling her he loved her, and she felt her chest squeeze at his shining eyes. “Tone.”

“You kids stay out of trouble until I get back,” he added, giving Steve a quick glance.

“I’m thirty-three,” Steve said.

“Still,” Tony said, and then Wolf Blitzer announced his name.

There was a wave of applause. Darcy felt Carol take her hand in hers and squeeze.

-

Tony killed it. He absolutely wrecked whatever resolve Congresswoman Gunn had, and eventually she began to dreg up the worst ideas about Tony the nation should have.

Luckily, Tony never lost his cool. He just threw down a wildcard that was his plan for tackling climate change that had Gunn stop in her tracks.

“I will create jobs with my clean energy plan,” he said to Wolf, who blinked at him, momentarily thrown.

“I would love it if you could elaborate, Mister Stark.”

“Absolutely,” Tony replied. “I’m sure the Internet will have a field day with footage of this –”

He flipped his tie over his shoulder and deftly unbuttoned several of his shirt buttons, exposing the arc reactor in his chest.

“What is this?” Gunn blurted, and Tony chuckled.

“I needed a visual aid. This –” the tapped on the glass cover. “-is the key to clean energy. I discovered or, rediscovered a new element my father had found more than forty years ago.”

 “Elaborate, Mister Stark,” Congresswoman Gunn snapped. There was a vein on her forehead that had begun to throb. “And stay on topic as I have.”

“The element is more powerful than any other energy source man has,” Tony finished. “And I want to give it to everyone in the best way I can, with legislature and employment and economic growth.”

Gunn made a sound like a grunt. “I –I – ”

Tony turned his head slightly to her, waiting. She shook her head, eyes blazing.

“How are we even meant to afford something like that? You can’t just throw money at problems to solve them.”

“I mean no disrespect, Congresswoman Gunn,” Tony said, buttoning his shirt back up. “But usually when people say that it’s because they’ve never had enough money to solve them.”

Carol whooped beside Darcy. Wolf Blitzer was able to redirect the conversation back to closing statement. They’d already managed to chew their way through close to two hours.

“I want to change history forever,” Gunn said, and there was a light applause. It was clear that even her most loyal of supporters were beginning to dwindle. “I have the experience and the character to be a worthy candidate for our great party. I have a consistent and trustworthy track record.”

Everything she said was a lie. Darcy only clapped because Steve did, and she think he only did that out of respect to the party and not his old boss.

“Mister Stark,” Wolf Blitzer said, “your closing statements.”

“I’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain,” Tony said, and there was laughter. “I have the legacy of my family name but I am not my father Howard Stark.”

He paused, one finger brushing his brow as he checked his notes. “I’m – I’m sure you know about me. The world saw me grow up. And I made a lot of mistakes.”

He looked up from his notes. “I’ll only mention Morgan once because she doesn’t deserve to be dragged into this, she really doesn’t, but – I want to have a world she can live in that isn’t on fire. I don’t want capitalism to be the only motivation we carry as a superpower. We can’t do that anymore.”

He swallowed. “Imagine what could happen if I reach my potential. Imagine that.”

The entire hall erupted in applause, and Tony only stared blankly for a second before smiling, blinking back tears.

“Yeah, and I want to be President. I should have probably said that, too.”

The cheers were so loud Darcy could feel the vibrations in her chest, and soon Tony and the Congresswoman were waving and making their way backstage to their staff.

Tony ran right up to Darcy, the cameras clicking all around them, and to her surprise he lifted her up and twirled them both around.

“Darcy Lewis, you are dynamite and punch me in the face if I ever say otherwise!”

Darcy’s eyes widened. “I wanna punch you _now_ , put me down!”

He obliged, and he pressed his lips to Darcy’s forehead.

“Your dad is proud of you, Tony,” she whispered. He squeezed her arms. “He always was.”

He nodded, moving on to Pepper and Morgan. Darcy saw Gunn race past and her face looked pink with anger or embarrassment but Darcy couldn’t be sure.

Carol wrapped her arms around her, planting kisses on her face.

“Alright, alright,” Darcy muttered, wriggling. “Quit it.”

Carol drew back. “You guys.”

“Oh, God,” Darcy and Steve muttered in unison. Carol was choked up, fanning her face.

-

Eventually it was just Darcy and the rest of the staff that lagged behind, and Carol said her goodbyes, promising to meet them as soon as she was able.

Steve tugged at Darcy’s shirt sleeve again while the other staff collected their things.

“Hey, I’ll take you back to your room.”

They were staying in Washington that night. It was the state’s big vote tomorrow. Darcy didn’t know the city that well and Steve was the one to pick a hotel for everyone, his suite opposite hers.

Darcy felt her stomach flip and then she remembered her exchange with Gunn.

Who the hell was Bucky?

“Yeah,” she said, and perhaps not smiling at him made him pause.

“We can stay,” he said in a low voice, but Darcy shook her head.

“No, let’s go. I want to sleep in a bed for once.”

In the taxi ride over Steve held her hand while they sat in silence. Darcy knew she should be thinking of finally being alone with him away from work but there was already so much else on her mind. She wasn’t that afraid of Gunn but she could not get the thought out of her head:

_He was only my campaign manager before he met you._

She hated that that horrible excuse for a woman got her thinking about her too much. She bit her lip when they took the elevator up.

“It’s Miranda, isn’t it?” Steve said, making Darcy snap out of her reverie. “What did she say to you?”

Darcy swallowed. “A lot of delusional bullshit, mostly.”

“Hmm,” Steve replied, but he kept looking at her. They reached their floor and exited the elevator, the corridor empty.

Darcy used her key card and they went inside. Her bags were already there from that morning. They only had time to drop everything off before they went to the rally.

Darcy pulled off her coat and tossed it over her chair, moving to kick off her shoes and pull off her earrings, placing them on the desk near the door.

“I was surprised she wanted to be anywhere near me, after Pepper. That day she – leaked that stuff, I went down to the headquarters.”

Steve took off his coat with a frown on his face.

“What did you do?”

“Can you guess?” Darcy said, licking her lips. “I lost it. Told her she’d ruined Morgan’s innocence. I told her she was a husk of a person. I told her she was evil and worthless.”

“That sounds like wrath,” Steve said, and Darcy shrugged a shoulder.

“Yeah. And then she said to me something today that I can’t stop thinking about, and I know she only said it to drive a wedge between…us.”

She let out a sigh, shaking her head. “It’s not even something I want to –”

“What was it?” Steve asked, his tone expectant. He knew she knew. He worked his jaw.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Darcy said, moving toward him and placing her hands on his chest. “I don’t want you revisiting trauma because she wanted to make a point.”

“Darcy, just ask.”

His voice was faint. Darcy bit her lip.

“It’s about someone called Bucky Barnes. She said you got him killed.”

She had the nerve to look him in the eye as she said it but it hurt anyway. Steve’s jaw ticked.

“Right.”

“So it happened?” Darcy asked. “He died?”

Steve looked down, reaching for her hands to push them away. “It was poor reconnaissance but I went against better advice. He lost an arm. I grew up with him, we always wanted to serve.”

He let out a breath through his lips, shaky. “He bled out and it’s –”

“No,” Darcy blurted. “I don’t care what you think, it’s not your fault. I know you well enough and you’re intelligent and capable and it’s just _not your fault_. So don’t tell me it is.”

She closed her mouth, looking up at him.

“You…” Steve looked at her mouth, brows furrowing.

“Did I take it too far? I’m sorry if –”

He cut her off with a kiss, and in no time at all her mouth opened to his tongue as it swept inside to claim her, swallowing her gasps. He backed them up against the bed and Darcy stumbled back, falling on her butt as they broke apart.

So much was happening so fast. Steve took hold of her by the hips, dragging her to the edge of the mattress as he knelt, rough hands sliding up to the waist band of her panties and pulling them down. His eyes were dark, and he was on a mission. Darcy lifted her hips as he tugged them off and threw them aside.

She was exposed to the cool air and shivered, the image of Steve’s head between her legs so overwhelming that she held her breath in anticipation.

She moaned as he licked up her slit, and soon his tongue was deep inside her pussy and stroking, causing her eyes to roll back. She propped herself up on elbows and whimpered, legs shaking.

“Oh, my God,” she chanted. “Oh, my God.”

She hadn’t had any kind of touch down there in so long it was like she’d become a giant nerve. He lapped at her, and she huffed.

“You’re gonna make me come already. Jesus fucking – _oh, my God!_ ”

There was a bolt of white hot pleasure that shot through her and she came with a shudder. She panted, and by the way he was looking at her with his mouth glistening with her arousal, Darcy knew she had little time to recover.

It might be the hottest thing in the world, seeing Steve Rogers unbuckle his belt and undo his fly to pull out his thick cock.

“Holy shit,” Darcy murmured, because he was anything but small. He bent his knees, lining them up before dipping inside and pulling the tip back out.

Darcy moaned, a needy kind of sound. She bit her lip in anticipation, and he did the same dipping motion. He did it three more times, rubbing himself along her slit and making her gasp.

When he finally pushed inside to the hilt Darcy’s back arched and she groaned, her hips rolling.

He felt so fucking perfect.

Nothing gentle from him. He set a punishing pace, taking off his shirt and pushing his pants down further. Darcy never saw him naked before that night and she knew if she saw herself she’d have a glazed look in her eye, possessed with lust.

“You feel so fucking good,” she whispered, their eyes locked. Steve picked up the pace and she whimpered. He found the spot, whatever that spot was, and she was close to home.

Darcy kept whispering ‘yes, yes, yes’ and other praises, as Steve unbuttoned her shirt, pushing down her bra to see her tits bounce with each beat of his flesh against hers.

She could hear how wet she was and she thought for a second that there might be a threshold they couldn’t cross, but then one of Steve’s hands went to her throat and she smiled.

“Holy shit,” she gasped. He wasn’t choking her as such, just applying a pressure to her neck to make her completely lose it.

The whole time Steve didn’t say anything, just used her like a toy. Once he pressed his thumb to her swollen clit she screamed.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he said, and she came again, pulsing around him.

He let go of her neck and landed on top of her, wrapping her thighs around his waist and never slowing down. His mouth slanted over hers.

When he began to moan, Darcy knew he was close.

His voice was rough in her ear:

“I fucked my fist that night of the art gallery. I thought of us just like this.”

“Fuck,” Darcy moaned, and she snaked a hand between them to play with herself but Steve was quicker, bringing her off for the final time.

She came on a sob with her face in his neck.

He thrust as deep inside her as he could and came, fingers digging into the flesh of her ass, gasping for air.

 

 

 


	14. Part Fourteen: Bucky

_"And to tear apart the ties that bind, her last 'fuck off' might be too kind..."_

\- "Do Me A Favour" by Arctic Monkeys

 

 

**Part Fourteen: Bucky**

 

 

By the way Steve behaved just moments before, Darcy was surprised he didn’t pull out of her straight away and just toss a rag at her.

They panted together, his grip lessening on her ass as the world began to right itself. Darcy felt his arms readjust and she opened her eyes again, one of his arms slipping under her neck and propping her head up so he could slant his mouth over hers.

The tenderness of the kiss surprised her, it was nothing compared to how he eventually curled himself around her, sighing with his face in her neck. Steve was a cuddler, and Darcy found herself wishing she didn’t know that about him.

She’d been called a lot of things. Callous, mean-spirited, bitchy, cunty, slutty. But she’d never been called a coward, and in that moment Darcy realized she was one.

Steve’s face surfaced from her neck and he smiled at her dreamily.

“I like you like this,” he whispered.

“Sweaty?” Darcy said, her voice not matching his.

“Spent,” he replied.

She nodded, feeling her guts churn. She needed to get out from under him. When she didn’t return his smile, Steve slowly moved back, releasing her from his hold and sliding out of her.

She felt the slow seep of the mess they made together on her thigh and she swallowed.

“I need to shower.”

She walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind herself, leaning against it. She knew what was wrong with her. Intimacy was a fatal thing. It’s why she never did relationships in the first place, it meant less space for being disappointed _and_ being disappointing. She just needed space, and possibly some time.

When she emerged from the shower Steve was sitting on the bed with his clothes back on, an expectant look on his face.

He wouldn’t be that far if he left. His room was just across the hall from her. She’d see him in a few hours, ready for their next flight. They were expected in Wisconsin in a few days, and headquarters was about to turn into another circus Darcy had to deal with. She had a lot on her plate.

“Even when you’re naked you’re wearing chain mail,” Steve said, and Darcy lowered her gaze, nodding.

She knew what he meant. She was holding back though they were closer than ever. She felt the instinct to snap, to downplay his emotions, but Steve wasn’t any other guy she’d slept with.

“I’m having the urge to run away, or to push you away,” she admitted. She looked up into Steve’s gaze, water still dripping from her hair. “I’m trying to not sound like a cliché.”

Steve nodded. He didn’t seem hurt, in fact his face softened at her admission. He swallowed, looking at his hands.

“You want me to go,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” she said, and he looked toward the ceiling.

“I’m not about to resign because you won’t be my girlfriend, Darcy,” he replied, and Darcy knew it was a jab. He was trying to remind her she wasn’t _all that_. He glanced at her again. “And we’re not friends.”

“That’s fair,” she murmured.

The silence felt heavy and Darcy wished she could take it all back, rewind to the part where he came inside her and fix it. Steve stood up, picking his jacket up from the floor and heading toward the door.

“Steve,” Darcy said, and he paused with his hand on the doorknob. The look he gave her was the same as when he saw Doug and her in the hallway.

“What, Darcy?”

“Would you take me to Bucky’s grave, when we get back?”

Her question seemed to throw him off completely and he blinked a few times.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“I’ll go with you. When was the last time you went?” she asked, crossing her arms over her naked chest. The cool air had begun to set in and she shivered.

“Christmas. I go in March for his birthday, too,” he said, voice still small.

Darcy nodded, trembling.

“’Night, sweetheart,” Steve murmured.

He shut the door behind him before Darcy had a chance to reply.

-

“Okay, now look up.”

Darcy obliged, feeling a puff of air on her face that was Tony’s laughter he’d struggled to stop from bubbling up.

“I swear to God, Tone,” she muttered through the corner of her mouth.

The camera clicked and the photographer moved back, nodding.

“Good! Good. Again.”

They were in the middle of shooting a _Time Magazine_ spread. Tony was meant to be on the next cover and they’d managed to squeeze in a few hours in Manhattan. Most of the photos were of Tony alone but they added Darcy to some.

She wore a form-fitting Gucci gown with long silk gloves and her hair in a ridiculous bouffant. It was like a 1950’s acid trip and Tony was playing doting husband in the shot they’d messed up at least five times because he couldn’t keep a straight face.

“Very serious, everyone,” Tony called out, making Darcy grit her teeth to stop her mouth from twitching into a smile. “Think Cold War. Think McCarthy.”

“Exactly,” the photographer said, and Darcy shook her head.

“Don’t encourage him.”

“Miss Lewis, could you tilt your chin slightly?”

Darcy swallowed and did as she was instructed.

-

Steve tossed a copy of _Time_ on Darcy’s desk and her eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” she said, seeing the cover image of Tony with the bold red, white and blue script _Imagine_ across the bottom. She picked up the magazine and flipped through it.

Steve’s hands were on his hips as he stood while Darcy remained seated. They hadn’t slept together since D.C. but he wasn’t avoiding her entirely. They fell back into their professional roles, and only occasionally did they share secret glances.

“Did you see my favorite one, yet?” Steve said, watching her reading.

Darcy flicked through the spread, stopping on the final image of her, standing alone clutching a bloody heart in her hands with her arms and shirt caked in blood.

Darcy held up the magazine. “You mean this one?”

Steve smiled. “Good for business, that one.”

“I can imagine.”

Darcy’s eyes darted to her office’s open door. Steve noticed, his face changing.

“You want to go see Bucky today?”

He nodded. “You found out his birthday.”

Darcy told Cherie she needed to step out for a while. She managed to clear her afternoon schedule once she knew Bucky’s birthdate.

They travelled together to the cemetery that held the mausoleum with Bucky inside. Once they made their way inside their footsteps echoed on the marble floors. They’d hardly exchanged a word during the trip over.

“He’s here,” Steve said softly, pointing to a plaque on a wall.

They walked over, and Darcy felt her chest tighten. His epitaph showed the tragedy – James Buchanan Barnes was just twenty-three years-old when he died in Afghanistan.

“Do you talk to him?” Darcy asked.

Steve sighed. “Sometimes. I used to come here more, at first. Then I got busy.”

He looked at the floor and then back up at the plaque, clearing his throat.

Darcy took the opportunity to take out a little paper flower out of her handbag and place it in the little metal holder beside Bucky’s name. Steve’s eyes widened as she did this, and Darcy caught him staring at her. She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and blinked up at him.

“I learned how to fold it. Took a few goes. I watched some tutorials,” she murmured.

Steve didn’t say anything to that, and Darcy reached out a hand, carefully running her fingers over the gold letters of Bucky’s name.

“Hey, Buck,” she whispered. “I’m… I’m… not good at this.” She looked down, sighing. “Thank you for your service. I work with Steve.”

She hated that she was too aware of Steve’s eyes to say something more profound. She glanced at Steve, fingers still touching the letters.

“She’s a real loudmouth, Buck,” Steve said, looking right at Darcy. “You would have asked her out before I could if you were here.”

Darcy looked back at the letters, feeling the edges.

“You would have snatched me up for sure,” she whispered. She pushed aside all fear of sounding like a fool. “I’m taking care of him while you’re gone, okay? But he’ll see you soon enough.”

She didn’t believe in God or heaven but the idea that those who were gone were not too far away was something she wanted Steve to believe in.

They grew silent and Steve reached out to touch the ‘J’ with his finger, his eyes turning glassy.

-

They fell into a routine of their platonic bond over anything sexual, and soon March had melted into April. Tony was still ahead of Gunn but the distance was narrowing.

Darcy took a trip one afternoon at the beginning of May, Cherie with her. Darcy told her assistant to lag behind to not scare off the man she planned to meet.

Sure enough, he looked over her shoulder when she sat beside him on a bench in Central Park.

“I don’t have to ask what this is about.”

“We need a running mate and your name came up,” Darcy replied, keeping her eyes on the pond in front of them. She lowered her sunglasses. “Tony’s idea, not mine.”

“Why not your idea, too?” Clint Barton asked.

Darcy turned her head, giving him her full attention. “You retired from politics for your wife. I like to take the wife’s side nine times out of ten.”

Clint’s eyes lingered on her face. “Hmm. I heard about you. Lawyers calling you sorority girl turned ball buster.”

Darcy’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Did I major in ball busting, is that what they’re saying?”

He smirked. “Yeah, among other things.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes slightly. “At _Harvard_?”

He glanced away toward the water. “I could suggest three other people off the top of my head for Tony to have on the ticket."

“But you’re not gonna ‘cause you want to be on the ticket,” Darcy countered. “And I don’t need help finding people.”

“Sweetheart, I have no doubt,” Clint said with a laugh. “I’ve got three kids and a wife, what does Scott Lang have?”

She’d waited for him to say that. “Lang’s got an ex-wife and a kid under twelve plus he’s an ex-con, so he’s out. Try to _challenge_ me next time. I do my research.”

“I saw that photo of you with the heart,” he said, and Darcy rolled her eyes.

“A lot of people have,” she replied.

They stared at one another for a minute, before Clint relented, sighing.

“Ball busting, cute, smart,” he muttered. “Goddamn it.”

“So you’ll talk to your wife Laura about it?” Darcy asked, as if he hadn’t just said all those things.

He leaned forward with his hands on his knees and sighed again.

“Yeah.”

Darcy got up, looking around at the people walking by and picnicking on the grass.

“Whatever else you heard about Harvard,” she began, and Clint looked up. She lowered her sunglasses.

“It’s all rumors,” he said, hands up.

“I was gonna say, only believe what you heard if it’s bad,” she said.

She turned her heel and walked off to Cherie, who stood poised with her phone.

“He’s in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the Gucci gown](https://www.net-a-porter.com/au/en/product/1084509?gclsrc=aw.ds&cm_mmc=Google-ProductSearch-AU--c-_-NAP_EN_AU_PLA-_-NAP+-+AU+-+GS+-+Designer+-+Class_Clothing%C2%A0-+Type_Dresses%C2%A0-%C2%A0High%C2%A0-%C2%A0BT--Dresses+-+Maxi-_-__pla-488180443097_APAC&gclid=CjwKCAiAwJTjBRBhEiwA56V7q__bEpLuq1-zubRd7v3uifMLC1tpOYbqoBCrbX-z8f_Glcdf6DHHBhoCqPwQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds)
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: I somehow managed to write 'Macarthur' when I meant McCarthy. Love that for me. Fixed now. :/


	15. Part Fifteen: The Triple Lutz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Apologies to the three people who left comments I will never reply to. I accidentally deleted this chapter just minutes ago (how, I don't know, don't ask...) but it's the same. This is way longer than the last chapter and very NSFW toward the end!  
> [Oh No! Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40fK1VNd3wlyUOJvuo6HI0?si=i-D8cuWcQ4Gr6fwyJwqYrw)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)

_"You shut your mouth_  
_How can you say_  
_I go about things the wrong way?_  
_I am human and I need to be loved_  
_Just like everybody else does..."_

\- "How Soon Is Now?" by The Smiths

 

 

**Part Fifteen: The Triple Lutz**

 

 

Steve ducked his head into Darcy’s office, his jacket already on.

Darcy took it as a sign that he was about to leave.

“Gym tomorrow morning?” she asked, and he nodded.

They had this conversation more or less every night. Wherever they were staying, Steve made sure to find a way to exercise every morning before dawn.

Darcy threw down her pen. “Skip it.”

Steve looked around her office. “I came by to ask if there was anything else on your mind, but I take it back. I don’t like the look on your face.”

“You like every look on my face,” Darcy retorted, smiling. “Because it’s my face.”

Steve set his jaw, trying not to smile at her. He had a tell.

“You still haven’t said why I should skip –”

“That meeting I had yesterday,” Darcy said, launching into her spiel and steepling her fingers. “I met with Clint Barton.”

“Okay, why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asked, frowning.

“Because of _that_ look on _your_ face,” Darcy said, pointing. “I want to catch him tomorrow at a skating rink in Jersey. So skip the gym and meet me back here.”

She crossed her arms and waited. Steve worked his jaw, and then rolled his eyes.

“Fine, I can rest tomorrow,” he said. “But I don’t know about Barton as a running mate. Huck –”

“Huck is useless and you know it,” Darcy interrupted. “Don’t question this. I have it figured out.”

Steve gave her the deadpan response: “Does he have some wow factor I don’t know about?”

-

Darcy was at the her desk, and the set up was almost the same except she wore different clothes from last night and she was significantly less chipper at 7AM.

When Steve stuck his head in her doorway he was wide awake, whereas Darcy squinted at him blearily.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Is it?” Darcy mumbled. She rubbed her eyes, crossing something out before standing and grabbing her jacket.

Though it was May the spring was barely felt in New York. Darcy knew that meant summer going to kick their asses without much warning and she was not looking forward to the muggy bubble her office was about to become. Steve just watched her gather her things slowly before following him out the door.

“I went to the gym anyway,” he said, and Darcy rolled her eyes.

“I knew it. You’re insane,” she said. She cracked open a sugar-free Red Bull and took a gulp.

She felt a little better once the caffeine began to whir inside her on the way down to the basement.

Steve took out his car keys and a beat up Chrysler came to life, making Darcy stop in her tracks.

“I thought we’d Uber.”

“I’ll drive,” Steve said, essentially winning the argument purely because she felt it was still too early to begin an argument.

She carefully opened the passenger side and sat down, looking around. Steve’s car had a lot of papers in it, like his own desk at work. It smelt of him.

Steve shut his door and started the car, the sound system resuming the tune of Rage Against The Machine’s _Bulls On Parade_ , which had Darcy’s eyes widening. Of course Steve listened to them.

She bit her lip to cover her smile and adjusted her seat belt.

When they were on the road, Darcy began skipping the songs on shuffle.

“Anything – from – this – century?” she asked, punctuating each word with a finger pressed to the skip button.

Steve batted her hand away. “Leave it.”

Darcy settled on The Smiths and she leaned back in her chair, glancing at Steve’s face as he concentrated on signalling to change lanes.

“What?” he said, and she shrugged.

“You think we left it too late for choosing a running mate?” she asked, and Steve considered her words.

“If it gets out that we’re already looking at someone when Tony hasn’t got the nomination it’ll seem presumptuous.”

Darcy nodded. “Well, what was Gunn’s idea when you were with her?”

“Miranda wanted Ainsworth,” Steve said.

The mention of the Congresswoman always meant the same reaction. Steve’s voice would immediately drop and Darcy would sense he wanted to change the subject. He went quiet then, his jaw ticking.

“I’ll give you a reference wherever you go after this,” she said, and Steve blinked.

“I imagined you would,” he said. “Since I work for you.”

 _We’re not friends_. That’s what they’d both said to each other one way or another. Steve said it the last time right after they slept together. Darcy still felt a slight disappointment that he chose to mention he was technically her subordinate. She wondered if he even wanted to be there with her one their way to Jersey. Perhaps Cherie would have been the better choice.

But Darcy didn’t care too much for Cherie’s opinion.

“Right,” Darcy replied. “I just meant in case some asshole from Gunn’s camp tries to stop you from campaigning ever again.”

“What are you going to do after this?” Steve said, deflecting. He was staring straight ahead as he said it.

“Getting lunch. And Guam’s today,” Darcy said, looking down at her phone and scrolling through Twitter.

“I meant after the campaign,” he added, though Darcy knew that’s what he meant.

Whenever she thought about any time after November she’d push it away because the present was far more important, but if she was honest she had no idea how she was meant to function. She wondered how Steve ever managed it after Carol, or the other campaigns he was on.

Darcy let out a long breath. “I’ll go on a long vacation. Might never come back, depending on how it goes.”

“I thought you were so sure you’d win,” Steve said. “You don’t seem the type to ever stop wanting a fight.”

“You make me sound so wonderful to be around,” Darcy muttered.

Steve didn’t say anything to that, didn’t fuel her ego or try to tease. He just kept driving, and soon enough they pulled up at the ice rink.

The parking lot was empty save for one other car, and once Darcy stepped out and Steve followed her Darcy felt the mounting pressure on her shoulders for this to work out.

When they reached the front door, Darcy turned to Steve, looking up at him.

“You trust me?” she asked, and Steve frowned.

“Of course.”

He didn’t seem to have to think about that, which made Darcy’s stomach flip beneath the anxiety.

“Then let me do the talking for the most part,” she said, and he nodded.

She pushed through the door and she could hear music playing over the loudspeakers, echoing around the rink.

Clint Barton was sitting in the bleachers and turned his head.

“This is a private – hey!” He recognized Darcy. “You following me now?”

Darcy walked toward him with Steve in tow, giving Clint a small smile.

“It’s not that hard to find you. I asked your wife whether you still came here every week before opening hours. She said yes after I said who I was.”

Clint’s eyes left Darcy’s to give Steve a once over.

“We’ve met, haven’t we?”

Steve came out from behind Darcy and shook Clint’s hand.

“Yeah, at a benefit a couple years back,” he said. “Steve Rogers.”

“Clint,” Clint said, eyes darting back to Darcy. “You bring the big guns this time?”

“Oh, I’m not here for you,” Darcy said, and Clint frowned.

“What?”

Darcy glanced over at the woman who was skating alone, the only person on the whole rink.

Steve seemed thrown by her comment as well, mirroring Clint’s confusion.

Darcy smiled again. “I mean no offense. I mean, you’re good. But she’s better.”

The skater promptly lifted into the air and did a flip, sticking the landing and swerving off, speeding past Darcy in a blur of black and white.

“I still don’t get it,” Clint said.

“It’s easier if you just let her talk,” Steve said, sighing a little.

Darcy moved closer to the edge of the rink, watching as the woman whipped past again. This time the stranger’s eyes fell to hers, assessing.

Sensing a greater audience, the woman backed up to flip across closer to Darcy. She made it look easy.

Darcy turned her head to Steve, eyes wide. “That like, _did something_ to me. Inside.”

“Don’t,” Steve said, but his own amusement was barely contained.

Natalia Romanova was the woman skating across and showing off for Darcy. Darcy heard about her through her research of Clint Barton. She no longer went by that name, instead opting for her chosen American title Natasha Romanoff. She was a retired skater, having been granted a refugee status when she was seventeen. She was one of the few women to have successfully completed the Triple Axel at the Olympics.

Natasha slowed, gliding toward Darcy with a small smile on her face. She was around the same height as Darcy but her skates helped her have a slight advantage. She gripped the edge of the rink, and Darcy extended her hand.

“Hi, I’m –”

“I know who you are,” Natasha said, and then she looked at Steve. “Him not so much.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve said, but Natasha wasn’t looking at him anymore.

She and Darcy were in their own world.

“You skate?”

“I haven’t in years.”

“Go get a pair of skates and come back.”

Darcy followed Clint over to the front desk where there seemed to be no staff. Natasha might have been a silent partner or just knew the right people. Clint handed her a pair of skates and a spare pair of thick socks, and Darcy awkwardly pulled them on while he and Steve watched.

Darcy hobbled over to the edge where Natasha waited and she held onto the side.

When she stepped onto the ice she made an undignified squeak but Natasha’s hand was there to grab her arm to steady her.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“Hold my hand,” Natasha said, and Darcy obliged.

She may have been in over her head but Natasha was responding to her the same way Carol did, without judgement and infinite patience. They very slowly began to move across the ice and Darcy laughed nervously.

“If I fall then I’ll pull you down with me,” she warned.

“You won’t,” the blonde replied.

Once they were out of earshot of the two men that sat in the bleachers, Natasha smiled at Darcy again.

“You came all this way because of me?”

“You pulled Clint out of nowhere. Practically invented him,” Darcy replied. “I want you to come work with me.”

She was holding hands with a woman she’d never met before that day and it felt normal. There was something about Natasha that drew Darcy in.

“You mean for the final push,” Natasha said. “I’ve never done presidential campaigns before.”

“Neither have I,” Darcy countered. She felt her stomach drop as she nearly tripped, her fingers biting into Natasha’s soft palm. “Sorry.”

“I’m gonna let go,” Natasha said, and Darcy’s eyes grew wide.

“No!”

“You’ll be fine,” she replied, and she promptly took her hand away and Darcy froze.

She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting the hard impact of the ice below. Her eyes shot open again and she realized she was still very, very slowly making her way across the ice. She would be beaten by a tortoise but she hadn’t fallen over.

“See?” Natasha said, and she sped off.

Darcy reached an edge and held onto the side of the rink, watching as Natasha skated in a figure eight, before leaping through the air and completing the Triple Lutz.

“Holy shit,” Darcy blurted.

Natasha chuckled, coming back. “You know, no-one’s ever come onto the ice to woo me.”

“That’s a travesty,” Darcy said, making Natasha smile wider. “You’ll think about it?”

On the drive back to Manhattan, Steve let Darcy play around with the music as much as she wanted.

“That was a weird dynamic I just witnessed,” he said, as Darcy perused through the tracks.

She settled on Radiohead and shot Steve a look.

“Weird like how?” Darcy asked.

If he was anyone else Darcy might have accused him of jealousy. She just smirked, shrugging.

“We’re made for each other.”

Natasha turned up two days later with her laptop bag and two coffees and Darcy gave her a desk near Steve’s.

-

One of the last grand events before the final round of the primaries was a dinner in Manhattan with the bigger Democrat candidates all attending.

Darcy was just about done with asking people for money on the phone and she hadn’t had a night out like this one since way back when there was Miles Morales’ mural up for auction. Since Natasha had come to work alongside her the final pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.

News outlets were effectively saying the same thing, which was, “Stark will never have to pay for advertising ever again”. Darcy was happy that he was constantly in the news, even if not every story was true or particularly popular. She was weeks away from never having to see Gunn’s face in public ever again.

What bothered her was how much she thought of the night at the art gallery when she got ready in her hotel room. She did her hair in a classic 1950's wave style, her lips painted flame red with a sharp cat eye eyeliner job to bring it all together. She wore a more subdued navy off-the-shoulder gown in crushed velvet and her nails were painted black.

She took a cab to the event and made another entrance a lot like the one she made at the art gallery. People turned their heads to look at her, but this time people were stopping to say hello in all directions.

She found Natasha with Cherie sipping champagne. The two blondes were black, but Natasha was sultrier in her gaze. Cherie wore a little black choker that Darcy knew covered a fresh hickey.

“Hello,” she said, and Natasha gave her a smile.

Darcy turned her head slightly and found Clint who was talking with Tony and Pepper.

“Whole cavalry is here?” Darcy asked, and Cherie nodded.

Among the faces were members of the press. Darcy felt eyes all over her and tossed her hair off one shoulder, trying to make out if Gunn was anywhere to be seen.

Her eyes fell on Steve, who was speaking to an African American man Darcy didn’t recognize. They were laughing together and Darcy felt herself smile in turn, glad to see Steve was enjoying himself. His eyes met hers and his face changed.

Darcy looked away. “Ken here?”

Cherie looked like she had choked on her own tongue.

“What?”

“Kenneth Jones, from CNN? My Ken, is he here?” she asked Cherie, whose eyes were bulging.

“Darcy, how did you find out?”

“ _You_ just told me!” Darcy said, and Natasha began to chuckle softly. “You need to get better at bluffing.”

Darcy felt someone touch her arm and she turned her head. Doug Harlock was smiling down at her, holding up a flute of champagne.

“Hi, Doug,” Darcy said, taking the glass from him.

“Hi, ladies,” he said to Cherie and Natasha. Natasha’s eyes went from Doug’s face and rested on Darcy. Darcy knew that Natasha knew everything, somehow, in that moment. “Mind if I borrow your boss for a dance?”

“Go ahead,” Natasha said, her voice husky and intoxicating. Darcy would bet anything Doug would be back for a dance with Natasha the second he was done with her.

Cherie, not so much. It probably didn’t help that she looked like she was about to cry.

Darcy met Cherie’s gaze. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. You’re not clearing out your desk.”

Doug didn’t seemed fazed by any of the exchange, tugging Darcy into the dance floor just after she handed Cherie her champagne.

He took her by the waist and they swayed to the music. It was a cover of _Crimson and Clover_.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” he murmured. He kept one hand on her waist while his other fingers threaded through Darcy’s. “I missed you.”

“Hmm,” Darcy said. She’d received many, many texts over the months. She’d deliberately dodged all requests for her presence on his show. _Pol-Break_ was starting to crumble under poor ratings.

“You don’t sound moved,” he replied.

“No, I’m not,” Darcy admitted. “Not when we both know I’m something disposable.”

His smile faltered slightly before he recovered. “Why are you judging me for that?”

“I’m not, I just don’t like you pretending that you miss me for my wit,” she countered.

He looked at her painted mouth. “In a way, I do, actually.”

They continued to move and Darcy spotted Steve again. He looked less happy than the last time she saw him, but he was still talking to his friend. His hands were deep in his pockets.

“You’re not very nice,” Doug said, which brought Darcy’s eyes back to his face.

“Never claimed to be otherwise,” Darcy said.

“I’m married,” he said, and Darcy tilted her head.

“Did you just figure that out, or -?” she paused. “Oh. No, no, no.”

Doug opened his mouth to say more but she pulled her hand away from him, stopping their dance.

“Not everything means something.”

Doug’s mouth set into a thin line. “You’re all cold. Not even deep down. Cold and indifferent.”

“Who’s ‘you all’?” Darcy asked, her voice like ice.

“All you whores,” Doug said.

Darcy blinked at him. She wished she had her glass of champagne to throw the drink in his face. She wished she wasn’t being watched by so many people. Instead, she turned away and made to move out of the crowd of dancing couples. She wanted to leave Doug and Steve far behind.

She made her way out of the crowd to walk down a hallway to the bathrooms. She got away so that the urge to assault Doug for judging her for his same crimes could dissipate and she waited in line, breathing heavily.

Once Darcy reached the cubicles inside the attendant smiled at her, nodding. It took a lot of awkward movements inside but Darcy managed to use the facilities and make her way back to the sinks. She stared at herself in the mirror. She didn’t know that woman that looked back at her. She could have sworn she was younger, less sad looking as well. Another face joined hers.

Darcy turned. “Miranda.”

Gunn caught her off-guard, glancing at the attendant. “Get out. Let no-one else in until we leave.”

Her words were slurred. She was drunk. Darcy watched in horror as the Congresswoman stumbled slightly to wash her hands, struggling to turn off the faucet properly.

The attendant left them alone. Darcy wondered how Gunn managed to slip in the queue without her knowing. She must have been looking for her.

“Miranda,” Darcy said again, and Gunn turned to her.

“You little cunt,” she snarled, and she smacked Darcy across the face.

Despite being intoxicated the force of the impact was enough to make Darcy fall to her knees. She was dazed, clutching at her face, but she could see Gunn’s hands had balled into fists. She was about to start swinging again Darcy scrambled to her feet, backing into a wall.

Gunn took her by the shoulders and her breath was in Darcy’s face.

“I know everything about you!” she screamed, and Darcy blanched. “You’re a dirty little cunt and you don’t deserve _any_ of this!”

She smacked Darcy against the wall. Darcy wished she was taller, heavier. She wished she was a man in that moment, able to throw someone of Gunn’s height off of her.

“Hey!” came a voice, and Gunn turned her head.

Natasha had stormed in, her eyes wild.

“Get away from her!”

Gunn let go of Darcy, hands up. Darcy panted, and Natasha marched over and pulled Gunn away.

“It’s fine,” Darcy whispered. “She’s just drunk.”

“I saw her stumble in here and then the line was getting too long and you were nowhere to be seen,” Natasha snapped. She hissed in Gunn’s ear, “Time to go home, Congresswoman.”

Darcy followed Natasha and Gunn out of the bathroom with people staring, some holding up the phones to record Gunn’s attempt to cover up what just occurred:

“Little too much champagne, ladies. Just tripped in my heels!”

“Shut up,” Natasha hissed, and Gunn closed her mouth.

They marched out of the ballroom and into the lobby, and soon they were hailing Gunn a taxi.

“What about my assistant?” she slurred, and Darcy didn’t look her in the eye.

“Just text them you got food poisoning,” she mumbled.

Natasha slammed the taxi door shut and turned to Darcy as the cab peeled off into the night.

“Are you okay?”

Darcy’s throat felt tight. She hadn’t been confronted like that in a long time, and it was never by another grown woman. She was shaken to say the least, but she just shrugged.

“Yeah. No problem.”

Natasha tugged her by the hand back inside, not pressing her. Darcy was suddenly parched, gulping the rest of her drink that she took from Cherie. She wondered how long she had to stay before she could sneak back out into the night.

“Hey.”

She glanced up from the floor and saw Steve standing by, his throat bobbing.

“Hey,” she replied. She didn’t need him looking at her like that after what she’d just been through.

He tilted his head toward the dance floor.

“Dance with me.”

Never in all the time she’d known Steve had she seen him dance.

“No,” she said, sounding petulant. Cherie took her glass from her anyway without a word.

Darcy moved away but Steve caught her by the waist, steering her away from Natasha and Cherie.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered in her ear, making the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. “Come on.”

She relented, letting him turn her around and rest a hand on her waist while he held one of hers in the other.

“You don’t dance,” Darcy snapped, and he nodded.

“No, I don’t. But I like this song,” he said. “And I want to dance with you.”

It was one that Darcy put on the other day in his car, a song by The Smiths that usually had Darcy staring out of windows as she was swept away.

She didn’t want to be there. She thought of Xanax and Manhattan night skies and closed her eyes, sighing softly.

“Hey,” Steve said again, and she looked up. “What’s going on?”

“Gunn came at me in the bathroom,” she whispered, and Steve’s eyes widened as his brows furrowed. “Natasha just sent her home. She looked like she meant to kill me.”

They moved slower than the other dancers. Darcy spotted Doug Harlock in the distance talking to a waitress, making her laugh when he whispered something in her ear.

“Doug Harlock might drag me through the shit to get back at me, too,” she whispered. She blinked several times, swallowing. She made a strained smile. “But it’s all good. Just collateral.”

Steve’s face was like stone as they moved together. Darcy almost wished she’d carried on as if nothing happened.

“What happened to you?” Steve asked, and Darcy stared at him.

She knew what he meant instantly. What happened to her in the past that made her act this way, that made things like this normal to her? Why was she forcing herself to smile despite everything?

“What happened to _you_?” she threw back at him. If he showed her a mirror she had to do the same.

Being slutshamed and then assaulted and then having one of the people closest to her try to analyse her was enough to make her sick but Darcy forced away every sliver of shame and kept moving with the crowd to the song.

The song was _How Soon Is Now?_ and Darcy hated that it only had her filled with longing for something she dared not name.

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve murmured, bringing her back once more. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

Darcy slid her hand up his arm to rest on the back of his neck, nails scraping. He didn’t react.

“Tell me something real,” he said, and she wanted to punch him.

She looked deep into his eyes, unblinking. “I know the painting at the charity auction was yours. And I know it’s of me.”

Steve stared at her, and Darcy detected his fingers twitching against her waist.

Darcy took a deep breath. “And I know that if you asked me to stay with you tonight I’d say yes.”

He glanced away. “You can’t hold that against me forever, wanting you.”

“I would never,” she murmured, and his eyes met hers once more. “I just think you deserve so much better.”

They fell silent, the same song still playing. Darcy let her fingers lay against his neck and relax as they moved.

“Tell me something real,” she whispered.

They locked eyes. Steve’s throat bobbed again.

“You wouldn’t say yes to staying with me tonight because you’re lonely,” he whispered.

She glanced at his mouth and he did the same to her.

“Liar,” she whispered. That itself was a lie.

“Faker,” he threw back.

“You know I don’t,” she said, and she felt the burn of desire rising with his eyes on her neck.

-

Hours later when Darcy was alone in her hotel room with her heels kicked off, she heard a knock on her door.

Her stomach flipped but she rose from her bed and went to answer the door. Steve was there like he said he’d be, suit jacket in his hand.

She stepped aside and he went inside. She closed the door as he threw his jacket aside. She walked past him into the bathroom and she heard Steve follow her, the door shutting behind them as she flipped the light on.

When he kissed her it was with a devastating force that had Darcy pliant in his grip, arching herself toward him. She closed her eyes as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Her hands fell to his belt buckle and she fumbled to undo it along with his fly. She wanted him so much that her hands shook with nerves, and he spun her around, pinning her between the sink and his hips.

There was a scuffle as he pulled up the long skirts of her gown, Darcy glancing down to see he’d managed to get his dick out, which stood to attention.

The both grunted as Steve pushed aside her thong and shoved inside her. Darcy was back in Iowa with his body pressed up against hers and her clit throbbed, hopeful. His hand glided up to clasp her throat, his hips snapping. Darcy cried out, barely having time to recover before he did it again, harder. He fucked her in sharp thrusts, her hands scrambling for something to hold onto.

She felt used, just like she wanted. She felt cracked open and raw, and she was itching to come. So much so that her hand tried to squeeze between herself and the sink in vain.

Steve saw what she was doing and grabbed her arm, twisting it around to hold her in place. She immediately knew what he wanted and she whimpered.

“Please. Please can I come, please? Please!” she cried, and she gasped as he pulled her away from the sink to guide a hand around to play with her clit, making her toes curl. “Please, please –”

She was close to screaming.

“Go ahead and come on my cock, Darcy,” Steve said finally, his voice rough in her ear.

She clamped down on him, losing control of her speech. She blurted a series of cuss words along with his name and came with an almighty shudder. She fell forward and he caught her, his mouth on her neck as he kissed her there while still seated inside her.

“I want to see your face when you come again,” he whispered.

He sounded so sure of himself, and rightly so. Darcy was exhausted but she wanted more, letting him pull out and pick her up to carry her out of the bathroom. When he lay her down on the bed, Darcy blinked up at him, watching him take off his clothes to stand naked in front of her.

She wriggled, fumbling to take off her dress. Steve took over, unzipping and pulling away fabric. Darcy almost forgot the Spanx she wore and felt herself blush but Steve took no notice, helping her shimmy out of it.

Once they both lay naked, Steve wrapped his arms around her and lined them up. Darcy allowed herself to feel the weight of him against her, the way his arms felt so steady as he held her beneath him. Their mouths slanted together and she sighed.

He pushed inside her with little effort and Darcy’s back arched. They moaned together, Steve’s eyes growing wider. Darcy’s chest heaved, giving away how much she felt.

She felt _too much_. She felt the grip of panic inside her as she understood they were making love with their eyes locked. She chose to kiss Steve to make him stop staring at her so intensely and he was distracted, his tongue once again plying her mouth open.

Darcy bit her lip because it began to quiver and she pressed a heel into Steve’s perfect ass to spur him on.

“Fuck me really hard,” she whispered, and he pulled back slightly to look her in the eye.

It was too intimate for her and he sensed it, brows furrowing as he panted.

“Please,” she added.

He took hold of her thighs and wrapped them tighter around him, rocking his hips, making Darcy moan once more. Every drag of him along her clit was sweet, until he pressed a thumb against the throbbing bud.

Darcy babbled something, overcome by all the sensations. She felt like she might black out when she came, tensing her whole body and whimpering as they lay chest to chest.

Steve reached for her the final time and they kissed with their mouths clumsy and uncoordinated. When he came, he squeezed his eyes shut, a vulnerable sound escaping his lips and he let go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha's backstory comes from the combination of [this](http://vibranium.tumblr.com/post/181673624043/disease-mockwa-%D1%81%D1%82%D1%80%D0%B8%D0%BF%D1%82%D0%B8%D0%B7-%D0%BE%D1%82-%D1%82%D1%83%D0%BA%D1%82%D0%B0%D0%BC%D1%8B%D1%88%D0%B5%D0%B2%D0%BE%D0%B9-my) video and the late Anton Yelchin's parents' refugee story. 
> 
> Bulls On Parade is my favourite Rage song and yesterday Denzel Curry did a cover of the song which I highly recommend you watch [here](https://youtu.be/ZY4ywyFXdik).


	16. Part Sixteen: The Mad Day, or The Marriage of Figaro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled writing this chapter. I went through a couple bad writing days but tomorrow (Feb 20th) is my birthday. My present to myself is a step back from all the self-criticism. I often believe that my results are poor and not worth my efforts. I am very thankful for every person who has stuck with this story.

_"I want it all back_  
_And what are they gonna call me now?"_

\- "Give Me My Name Back" by Meg Mac

 

 

**Part Sixteen: The Mad Day, or The Marriage of Figaro**

 

 

The way they panted together in the afterglow was so like the last time that Darcy had to make sure she hadn’t dreamed the last few months. If only she had, then she wouldn’t be thinking of how many times she’d let Steve down since the first time.

He didn’t kiss her like the last time. Instead, he pulled out and fell on his back while staring at the ceiling, and Darcy rolled onto her side as she watched his face. They were silent except for their breaths for some time, until Steve passed a hand over his face and glanced at her.

“I don’t think I liked some of that,” he whispered, and Darcy felt her chest tighten.

What had she done wrong? Should they have spoken first before his hands lay on her body?

“Why?” she asked, and she knew she sounded as vulnerable as she felt.

“I sounded like a porn star. ‘Come on my cock’? What the hell was that?” Steve muttered, and Darcy felt instant relief, and then she burst out laughing.

She kept on laughing, Steve smiling up at her.

“What’s wrong with me?” he added, and she shrugged.

“Stockholm Syndrome,” she said.

His face changed and he reached for her and stroked her cheek. “I don’t think so.”

Darcy did the same, her hand trailing down his face, fingers brushing skin.

She thought of their dancing and how he held a mirror to her, but she decided she didn’t hate him for it. He just wanted to know her, and she’d resisted every other time a man tried the same thing.

“Can we skip the part where we pretend this didn’t happen?” he murmured, tracing her lower lip with his thumb.

“I don’t pretend stuff like that,” Darcy said. “It just feels like every time this happens it’s the last time.”

Steve thought about that, swallowing. “Let me take you out. Let me.”

Darcy let out a breath like a laugh and closed her eyes. “I don’t know.”

He kept tracing her lips gently but his gaze cut to the bone and Darcy looked away.

“I wasn’t saying you deserve better for the sake of an argument,” she added. She pulled her face away from his hand and caught his wrist. “I meant it.”

“That’s impossible,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Why?”

“What do you mean?” he said, and Darcy let go off his wrist, letting his hand fall to the mattress.

“Is it impossible because you have such a low opinion of yourself or is it -?”

“I like you,” he interrupted. “A lot. And you have to deal with that sooner or later.” He sat up, invading her space by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling Darcy toward him, his nose brushing hers. “And I know you like me.”

Darcy bit her lip. Nothing Steve said was a lie.

“I never want you to change,” he said. “Never ever. I don’t deserve better. You’re perfect.”

His sentiment caused Darcy to scoff, brows furrowing.

“That is disgustingly cliché.”

He kissed her, a gentle press. “Let me take you out.”

Darcy shook her head. “No, I can’t.”

Steve closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, rolling them so he was on top of her. One hand slipped between them and Darcy jolted, feeling his fingers brush over her slit.

There was the mess between her legs from just minutes ago and Steve’s fingers glided easily. Darcy should have known he wasn’t squeamish. He caught her in another kiss as he reached her clit, rubbing in lazy circles.

Darcy gasped against his mouth, hips rolling.

“Fucking – _shit_ ,” she whispered, only to have Steve push two fingers inside her and curl them to rub against the spongy spot that made her toes curl.

He was doing what his cock couldn’t do for now. His thumb worked at her clit as his fingers wiggled and Darcy lost control, biting down on her lip as she tensed all over.

Coming down from the high, she felt fresh sweat on her brow and she panted.

“Ask me to stay with you tonight,” she whispered, and Steve drew his fingers away, both his hands resting on her stomach and rubbing.

“Would you stay with me tonight?” he asked, lips brushing her damp neck.

“Yes. Please,” Darcy whispered.

-

Darcy stayed with Steve that night but she still wasn’t agreeing to a date.

For the next week and a half they met in secret in hotel rooms, and they lacked consistency but Darcy was existing in the closest thing to monogamy for the first time in years.

At work Steve was still more commanding in his voice, better at controlling all the interns and making sure everything ran like a well-oiled machine. Darcy was better at the speech writing, analysis and taming Cherie.

The day after her assistant unintentionally blew her own cover Darcy went with her on a Starbucks run and at first Cherie treated it as an indication she was being dismissed.

“You took me to a place outside the office to fire me,” she groaned, putting her face in her hands as they waited to the side of their counter. She was wearing another velvet choker, so she hadn’t suddenly dumped Ken out of guilt.

“No,” Darcy said, after letting Cherie wallow for a while because the music playing above their heads was smooth jazz public domain bullshit and she was waiting for her first coffee of the day.

She would hate to work there. Most likely she’d lace everything with poison and end up in jail like her mother had predicted so long ago, but the girl who served them was remarkably chipper with a bouncy ponytail to match her personality.

“Why not? Didn’t I repeatedly do something that was both moronic and completely unethical?” Cherie hissed, though her voice was muffled by her hands.

“Yeah, but we’ve all been there,” Darcy said, and she waited for Cherie to compose herself.

It took another minute.

“I’m sorry. We never spoke about work,” Cherie said. “We… didn’t speak much at all.”

Darcy thought of how Steve hardly ever said a word to her during sex and it was only afterwards that he’d talk and it usually wasn’t on the subject of work.

“Right, well,” Darcy said. She cleared her throat. “If Ken writes a word about Tony then it’s a direct conflict of interest.”

“He does puff pieces now. He’s a junior correspondent and all the big stories are swallowed up by the big names,” Cherie said, sounding frustrated. “And he really cares about his job but he’s always doing stories on Fortnite –”

“Cherie, you’re divulging too much,” Darcy said, putting a hand out to touch her arm. “Just shut up.”

Cherie understood her, nodding. “Right. I’ll… yeah. Shut up.”

When they got their coffees and began to walk back to the headquarters, Darcy’s phone buzzed. Cherie looked at her own phone.

“What the fuck?” Darcy muttered.

 _Greene won’t run for re-election._ The text came from Steve.

Once they got back to the offices Darcy held up her phone with her eyes wide at Steve.

“Since when?”

“CNN’s about to spread it. Greene’s wife doesn’t want to be a widow,” Steve said.

They were standing in the conference room and Darcy turned on the TV, switching the channel’s over. The coverage had already begun.

Cherie stood by, frowning. “Does this mean he’ll refund the campaign funds he already spent?”

“No,” Darcy and Steve said together.

“Makes it look like fiscal irresponsibility,” Steve added.

Darcy chewed her lip. “Fuck.”

It meant rearranging their whole approach after the primaries. It meant re-evaluating the Republican candidates. The realization hit her and her eyes bulged and Darcy did a very convincing impersonation of Cherie half an hour ago and covered her face with her hands.

“It’s Stern,” Steve said to Cherie, who was sipping her drink.

“Fucking Stern, are you –” Darcy stamped one foot. “- _fucking kidding_ me?”

Steve’s jaw ticked. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!” Darcy snapped. “Fucking _Stern_ , are you fucking -?”

Darcy made a long exasperated sound, and then squeezed her eyes shut.

“It’s fine,” she sighed, taking a deep breath. “I just won’t sleep for a few days.”

“Maybe in a few days we’ll be dead,” Steve muttered.

“That would be nice,” Darcy mumbled, and she met Steve’s gaze.

She forgot Cherie was there for a second but then pointed at her, making her assistant flinch.

“Get everyone in here right now. And we need to order pizza in advance.”

-

They spent most of their time working through the scenarios of a Stern vs. Stark campaign and the most obvious issue they had was appealing to older people.

“He’s out with New Hampshire for sure,” one intern muttered, and Steve worked his jaw.

“Florida, too,” someone else said.

Darcy’s eyes met Steve’s. “We’ve been at it for twelve hours. We need a break.”

Steve nodded, rising from his chair.

Darcy played with her pen, tapping it against her ledger while the others talked among themselves. Steve turned on the TV and switched it over to _Pol-Break_.

Darcy shot him a look she hoped conveyed her level of annoyance without drawing too much attention to the moment, but Steve didn’t seem troubled by Doug Harlock’s face.

“How is this taking a break?” Darcy said, and Steve shrugged.

“Maybe I’m a masochist,” he whispered, and Darcy smirked.

“Imagine my surprise.”

The conference room quieted as Doug asked questions about Oregon. The unanimous opinion of the panel was that Stern and Gunn would secure their votes.

Darcy shook her head, tilting her beer bottle to sip at it. She thought of how close the race had become and wondered how she was meant to stay sane for the next couple weeks. It might be down to just one bad day and they’d have to drop out.

The thought of writing a speech for Tony to endorse the Congresswoman was enough to turn Darcy’s stomach.

 _“On_ Pol-Break _we like to change things up occasionally. This week we are introducing a new segment I’ve named ‘The Takedown’. Let’s roll the clip.”_

Doug smiled at Darcy before a sick twist met her insides and Darcy saw her own photo staring back at her a second later. The room around her was so quiet she could have been entirely alone in the world.

_“By this point, everyone knows the name Darcy Lewis. She is the young go-getter whose influence has caused Tony Stark’s campaign to blossom beyond the wildest expectations of commentators around the world.”_

Darcy stared as photos of her waving to a camera while stepping outside of a TV studio’s backdoor popped up. Doug was doing the voice-over, which had Darcy believing he wrote this entire segment alone. She gripped her pen in her hand and allowed her eyes to swivel toward Steve.

His jaw was set as he stared at the screen along with everyone else.

_“This journalist’s main concern is the lack of professionalism throughout the campaign, and the complete lack of humanity throughout Miss Lewis’ career.”_

“Don’t do it,” Steve muttered, but then the footage cut to a face Darcy hadn’t seen in over ten years.

It was a girl whose dorm was opposite hers when she was at Harvard.

_“Allison Beckswell is a former roommate of Darcy Lewis’ and paints a disturbing picture of the campaign manager’s college past.”_

_“She kept to herself,”_ Allison said. _“She was very snobby and off-putting to me. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t partying or… having men over.”_

There was a murmur in the conference room and Darcy felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

 _“Were there drugs?”_ it was Doug asking Allison.

 _“Oh, absolutely,”_ Allison said. Darcy remembered selling her weed once and felt her face set into a scowl. _“I was surprised she ever turned in a paper let alone completed her internship.”_

_“That internship was at Angler, Poole & White, whose on ruthless reputation indicates the motives of Miss Lewis.”_

There was a shot of Allison shaking her head in dismay. _“I felt there was something wrong with her inside, a lack of self-respect in some ways. Her working for Tony Stark makes so much sense. The money and the power it would give her.”_

_“It’s hard to believe Miss Lewis ever ran a non-profit out of Queens, New York.”_

There was the photograph of Darcy on her phone during Congresswoman Gunn’s speech. It was the same photograph that convinced Tony that Darcy was his ideal campaign manager. Darcy knew how people would interpret it now. She swallowed.

The camera cut back to Doug in the studio, his face lined with concern.

_“Miss Lewis’ campaign lacks heart and integrity. We are meant to be wowed by the outrageousness of the situation of having a billionaire-turned-vigilante running for the nomination but this journalist is no longer willing to take his façade as a credible campaign.”_

“You’re not a fuckin’ journalist,” Steve muttered, crossing his arms.

_“The concern is for the future of our country. This campaign sets a bad example to younger generations, especially the girls who will aspire to a life in politics.”_

_Pol-Break_ cut to a commercial and Darcy let out a breath, staring at her lap.

“Darcy,” Cherie murmured.

She felt far away, not unlike the time she had the panic attack during Super Tuesday. She blinked, turning the last couple of minutes over in her head. Doug must have looked for someone like Allison just to make a very obvious point. Why didn’t he just have ‘jezebel’ as her title instead of ‘campaign manager’?

She bent her head and began to laugh. She knew she was only laughing to not begin crying. She felt a hand on her shoulder and knew it was Cherie’s hesitant touch.

Steve got up from his chair and made the room empty.

Darcy kept laughing, covering her eyes with a hand.

“Darcy.”

She ignored him, suddenly holding her breath and staring at the TV screen that was now switched off. She breathed out, and the day’s work was suddenly heavy as stones in her pockets, weighing her down.

She got up from her chair without looking at Steve.

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

That was a lie. She left the building without her phone, taking a cab to the airport.

She arrived in Malibu later that night. She was the only person at Tony’s property but she had the security clearance for JARVIS to let her in.

She lay on the couch with the same Pol-Break segment playing on repeat, scrolling through Reddit on another screen.

There were dozens of accounts claiming to have slept with her. Some of them were starting in their accuracy so Darcy treated those as either real men she knew or friends of theirs writing on their behalf. One even mentioned the group sex in Harvard and Darcy wondered which of those guys cracked. Three of them were married and she knew one of them had children. She’d trusted them but she also knew there was no evidence to back any of the claims written online about her.

It was like staring at a photograph of herself for too long and no longer seeing a face. The features were blurring into something unrecognizable and Darcy was soon able to see herself as a caricature.

Soon she knew the segment word for word, and she stared at Doug’s smug face for long enough to know he wasn’t hurt because of having any feelings for her. It was about his pride, making him so predictable and disappointing just the same. She didn’t regret sleeping with him. It was too late for that, and she wasn’t about to wish she could take it back. That was a child’s solution.

_“Miss Lewis, Steve Rogers is calling again.”_

“I don’t want to talk to him,” she replied. “Just call my mom.”

_“She is still not answering, unfortunately.”_

Darcy sighed. She felt around behind her head and found the tumbler full of scotch she’d poured herself and picked it up awkwardly, not taking her eyes of Doug.

As she drank, she felt more tired than ever. How did any celebrity ever pull through this? Darcy had manipulated her own public image for so long that this felt like a rug being tugged out from under her. And yet she knew not even deep down that this was bound to happen.

She just didn’t think it would happen before the primaries were over.

She emptied her glass and swallowed, eyelids heavier.

-

Darcy woke hours later as JARVIS lifted the blinds for her. The light poured in and she squinted around for her glasses, finding them next to her empty glass.

 _“Advil and other medications are available in the guest bathroom,”_ JARVIS announced, and Darcy nodded.

She wasn’t that hungover. It was more of an emotional aftermath than anything to do with scotch.

There was a banging in the distance and Darcy sat up suddenly, eyes wide.

“JARVIS?”

_“Steve Rogers has arrived.”_

Darcy would bet anything that the AI chose not to tell her Steve was on his way to prevent her from running off. JARVIS was meant to be on her side.

She grit her teeth. “Let him in.”

She heard footsteps and smoothed her hair as she waited for Steve to come into view. He was panting, holding his jacket in one hand.

“What the fuck, Darcy?”

“Morning,” she replied, eyebrows hiking. “You look good for someone who just got off a plane.”

Steve glared at her. “No. I’m not playing any of your games. _You_ ran off.”

Darcy nodded. “And you came after me.”

“Of course I did!” Steve yelled, and Darcy closed her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m not coming back,” Darcy murmured. She began to jiggle her leg out of habit, and Steve’s eyes fell to her knee. “And I keep to myself, like Allison says. Like _you_ say I do.”

Steve wasn’t having it. “What is this? You run away and then act like you deserve what happened? Harlock called it a goddamn takedown for a reason.”

“It’s not libel,” Darcy said, her voice rising.

“There is nothing,” Steve said, coming closer to stand over her. “Nothing at all to prove what anyone has said about you, because you’re a smart woman and never let someone have evidence.”

“Reddit says otherwise. I’m not coming back.”

Steve gripped his jacket a little tighter. “You got knocked down but you get back up. You always do. What about Miranda and the fucking bruises that were on your back for days?”

Darcy thought of Steve’s fingertips running along the bare skin of her back and she shook her head.

“’Miss Lewis’ campaign lacks heart and integrity’,” Darcy said, leveling Steve’s gaze.

He blinked. “How many times have you watched it? How many?”

She didn’t know. At least a hundred.

“He’s right. Doug was right. I don’t show heart or integrity.”

Her voice was small but Steve heard her just the same, glancing towards the ceiling and giving a massive sigh.

“I called you cynical. Once. Just once,” he said, and Darcy remembered. It was the day they met, when she told him not to sling mud. “And you keep proving me right all the time.”

“I’m being realistic. Harlock’s segment has over a million views. It’s trending. I’m seeing Reddit posts blow up. There’s one post that’s so close to the truth that it can’t be anybody other than one of the guys from _that_ Harvard party.”

“So you’re just going to stay here and drink yourself to death?” Steve said, crossing his arms.

Darcy glanced away. “I left my phone because I knew my number would be leaked.”

She looked up at Steve, whose face had changed to something sadder.

“Yeah. You got messages. I listened to the voicemails, too.”

Darcy was surprised by this. “All of them?”

“Yes,” Steve said.

He lowered himself into a squat and took Darcy’s hand in his. Darcy supposed this was his last resort, using their closeness to bribe her into coming back.

She glared at him, and then she realized he was doing it to comfort her.

“Your mom was getting calls, too. She stopped answering the phone.”

“I couldn’t reach her before,” Darcy breathed.

“She’s okay,” Steve said. “She’s just worried about you. She’s never known you to back down. She said you’re the most stubborn person imaginable.”

Darcy felt herself mirror Steve’s small smile. All they did was stare at each other for a few moments while Darcy’s knee slowed to a stop.

“You are a powerhouse,” Steve said. “And I don’t want to work for anyone else but you.”

Darcy stared at him, feeling her eyes prickle.

She took her hand back.

“You know, if it was a man who _The Takedown_ was about last night, everyone would have called him a stud.”

“Who says you’re not a stud?” Steve asked, and Darcy let out a half-laugh. 

-

Darcy returned to New York that night with Steve, sleeping on the couch in her office. She needed to get a new phone number.

She managed to a get a hold of her mother and they spoke for the first time in months. Darcy used Steve’s phone to call her, shutting her office door behind her and settling at her desk.

“Darcy!”

“Mom,” she replied. “Are you okay?”

“Craig wants us to go away for a while. We’re worried about people finding the house.”

Darcy bit her lip. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Her throat felt dry and she attempted to clear it with little success.

“When Steve was on the phone… he sounded nice,” her mom added, and Darcy knew where this was going.

“We work together,” she murmured. “And he is nice. He’s dealing with the insurance company right now, trying to figure out what to do about our own security.”

“What they said on TV about you –”

“Mom,” Darcy said. She was close to begging her to stop talking but her mom pressed on.

“You have had problems being close to people. I don’t say that to be mean. I just hope Steve is close enough to you right now, when you’re going through so much.”

Darcy swallowed. “Right. I’m fine, though, Mom. Doug Harlock was just –”

“He called us, wanting a statement. He asked when was the last time you were home. I lied.”

Darcy knew why her mom would lie. It would be so that she sounded closer to family than she actually was. She wondered how long it took him to find the right phone numbers.

“Thanks.”

When Darcy hung up, she stared at Steve’s phone in her hand, wanting to crush it.

-

Oregon went to Gunn, along with Kentucky. The same happened for Senator Stern.

When Darcy first saw the numbers for Kentucky she wanted to throw her new phone against the wall, but she was interrupted by a knock on her office door.

Steve was standing in the doorway with the African American man Darcy recognized from the ball they all attended earlier in the month.

“Darcy, this is Sam Wilson. He’s going to be your new head of security.”

Darcy rose from her desk, taking Sam’s hand in hers and shaking it.

“What?”

Sam broke into a smile. “He didn’t tell you about me, huh?”

He and Steve exchanged a look and Sam turned back to Darcy.

“We’re treating all threats as legitimate, so I’m gonna be with you at all times for the foreseeable future.”

“A black guy as my bodyguard?” Darcy sat, eyebrows hiking. “Seems kind of cliché.”

“White woman being threatened by men online. Seems also like a cliché,” Sam countered, and Darcy decided then that there were worse people to be stuck with. “You’re not safe and the insurance company that Tony Stark hired is appropriately concerned.”

“Were you guys in the Army together?” Darcy asked, deflecting the last comment about not being safe. She’d rather not think about that.

“Air Force,” Sam said. “We met after we both left. I work private security these days.” He gestured his earpiece. “Hence this. Hence you.”

“Hence I’m not going to have any privacy at all,” Darcy said. “For how long?”

“Don’t know,” Steve said.

There was a pause between them and Darcy sighed.

“Okay.”

“I’ll be posted outside your office and I’ll go with you everywhere in public, but I’ll have one of my guys guarding your hotel room at night,” Sam said.

“We’ve got Puerto Rico, South Dakota and Montana coming up,” Darcy said, crossing her arms. “I’ve got my guys all over the country. Most likely I won’t even leave this room if I have to.”

She met Steve’s gaze.

“I might not need them.”

“Sweetheart, you need Sam,” Steve replied, and Darcy grit her teeth.

“Fine,” she muttered, looking at Sam. “How much are they paying you?”

“I get 2200 a week,” Sam replied.

“Doesn't seem like much for taking bullets,” Darcy muttered.

-

Darcy got used to seeing Sam each day. The death threats began to decrease but Reddit became a cesspool of stranger encounters that ranged from plausible to completely out of left field.

Puerto Rico went to Gunn. Darcy felt it like a blow to the chest because things were so close. She could taste both defeat and victory. She no longer trusted her gut instincts that Tony was going to win. Every time she thought she was winning she ended up losing. Doug Harlock had shaken her.

June 3rd was the morning Darcy would always remember as one of the most surreal of her entire life. Breakfast television was spreading the news that Barack Obama had labelled Doug Harlock as a ‘jackass’ for his segment about her on _Pol-Break_. Darcy heard the same soundbite over and over of the former President reducing the smear with a single word. Darcy sipped her coffee and it tasted different. She went to her mirror and saw someone she recognized again. The world no longer hung off of its hinges.

It was the same day that Tony finally won enough delegates to become the presumptive nominee. As the news came through, the conference room was full. Someone popped champagne, and Darcy looked over a Sam and smiled. He then pointed at someone behind her and Darcy turned.

Steve wrapped his arms around her, and his embrace became her entire world for that tiny moment between hearing the announcement and then cheering along with everybody else.

“You did it,” Steve whispered, pressing their foreheads together.

For once Darcy didn’t care if people saw them together, if they drew their own conclusions. Their suspicions would only be right, and she wasn’t ashamed.

“ _We_ did it,” she whispered back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve making fun of his dirty talk was me making fun of my own writing in the last chapter.
> 
> We are not whispering "Hail HYDRA" in this story. No, sir. No, thank you.
> 
> The Obama "jackass" comment is absolutely a reference to the Taylor Swift/Kanye incident of 2009.
> 
> Referencing Mozart in my title seems pretentious, I know. But it's mostly as a reference to philandering and outwitting others. It's more of an indication of Harlock's own inevitable demise. It just didn't happen in this part.
> 
>  
> 
> [Oh No! Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40fK1VNd3wlyUOJvuo6HI0?si=i-D8cuWcQ4Gr6fwyJwqYrw)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	17. Part Seventeen: We're Not Dating

_"Don't be mad cause I'm doing me better than you doing you_  
_Better than you doing you, fuck it, what you gon' do?"_

\- "IV. sweatpants" by Childish Gambino

 

 

**Part Seventeen: We Aren't Dating**

 

 

The next couple months would be a countdown to the National Convention in August. Once Gunn was out of the race, Darcy had no time to breathe a sigh of relief.

No-one had time for that. Darcy was surprised they had time at all for anything other than the campaign, but Carol kidnapped her one afternoon. The precise date was June 13th, her birthday.

“Dirty thirty! Dirty thirty!” Carol chanted, and promptly covered Sam in silly string while they attempted to outrun him in Central Park.

“Darcy, you are not safe out here!” Sam yelled, but he was smiling.

Darcy and Carol ran with their fingers entwined, laughing. In no time at all, Sam caught up with them and threw the remnants of silly string on top of Darcy’s head.

She couldn’t believe she was thirty. When she woke that morning she had a weird moment where a sob bubbled up and then it disappeared. She hoped that wouldn’t happen again, especially around anyone from work. Running with Carol through the park with people staring while Sam chased them created a space outside of her worries. She no longer had to compare herself to her expectations she had of herself as a child – or at least, she managed to not care about her age for a minute while screaming bloody murder.

“Truce, truce, truce!” she gasped, out of breath. Sam stopped running with his hands up, and Carol nodded at her. They were all feeling the heat of the afternoon sun beating down on them.

Carol put an arm around her shoulders and they began to walk on with Sam close by.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good, I guess,” Darcy murmured. She was aware of Sam’s ears and the possibility anything that was said might get back to Steve. Though Sam had assured her what he witnessed was not something to gossip about with others, Darcy knew too well that he and Steve were close friends.

“Except?” Carol prompted.

“Gender role bullshit, I guess,” Darcy muttered, shaking her head. “My mom’s gonna start asking about where her grandkids are more often with the big… three-oh.”

Carol tutted. “Just do what I did. Get a cat and declare yourself a spinster.”

Darcy began to laugh, as she had seriously considered getting a pet, but she thought it might be cruel to have an animal with no place to put it. It would have to be one of those pets people had a work, and she couldn’t see herself dedicating too much time to it.

“Maybe I’ll just come visit you and Goose soon,” she said, and Carol smiled.

When they got back to the Manhattan headquarters they shut themselves in Darcy’s office and danced to Carol’s Spotify playlist. It was just a couple hours of freedom but Carol made Darcy’s heart so full.

There was a knock on the door while they danced to Kid Cudi and Natasha stuck her head in.

“Oh, hey!” Darcy yelled over the music. “When did you get back?”

Natasha smiled, amused by Carol’s dancing that Darcy was copying in turn.

“Just now. Some suits are here, too.”

Darcy felt her stomach drop, wondering what that could mean. It must have shown on her face because Natasha shook her head.

“Clint’s back, too. It’s probably just about August,” Natasha added. “Human resources.”

Darcy wandered out and into the conference room. She shook hands with a new HR rep named Daniel.

“I heard it was your birthday, so happy birthday,” he said, and Darcy nodded.

“Thanks.” She didn’t wish to dwell on it.

She and Daniel were the only ones in the conference room with the other staff bustling around in the background. They were beginning to absorb a lot more volunteers from out of state. There were now tiers upon tiers, and soon Darcy wouldn’t know everyone’s names. She’d become an employer whose name proceeded her.

She saw Natasha and Carol in the corner of her eye chatting and laughing, and she tried to remember where Steve was supposed to be that day. Sam lingered outside the open conference room door. Darcy could see his poised shoulders.

“From what I know, you did not have a human resources representative here before,” Daniel said. “So the party organized I come here to make a report.”

Darcy’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah, we were sort of… busy.”

“I understand,” Daniel said, hand on his chest. “But there are concerns.”

“Like?” Darcy said, having some idea where he was going. She glanced at the shape of Sam just within earshot.

“If there are romantic relationships occurring between yourself and subordinates,” Daniel elaborated, and Darcy felt her heartbeat pick up.

She didn’t care before about people knowing about her sleeping with Steve because it didn’t affect how the team functioned at all. There was no favortism. If anything, Steve was usually the one Darcy picked on the most. She supposed from an outsider’s perspective it was still an abuse of power.

“Or anyone here, really,” Daniel added.

Darcy kept her face very still, barely nodding. She waited for Daniel to outright ask about it, but he didn’t.

“That’s not happening with me personally,” Darcy said. She looked Daniel in the eye as she said it, hoping the lie landed gracefully enough.

Daniel didn’t look convinced but he didn’t press her, and Darcy forced a small smile.

“Ask around. People here are usually busy with things other than sex, though.”

“So if I asked Steve Rogers, he’d say the same?” Daniel asked, and Darcy felt her face falter.

“Of course.”

The second Daniel left the office Darcy unlocked her phone and rang Steve’s phone. He picked up almost instantly. There were sounds of music and rhythmic thumping in the background, what Darcy recognized as sounds of his gym.

He must have changed around his routine, being there in the afternoon instead of the crack of dawn.

“We’re not dating,” Darcy blurted, and she watched Sam for any movement but he remained still.

Steve didn’t sound troubled on his end. “I didn’t think we were.”

“I mean, if… that subject comes up,” Darcy added, her voice lower. “The human resources guy might start sniffing around, and… well.”

She sounded so awkward, and rubbed her eyes, listening for Steve’s response.

“I guess with the party money coming our way there’s more protocol,” Darcy added, wishing Steve would say something. “You there?”

There was a loud _thunk_. “I was just finishing a set.”

“Okay, I’ll see you when you get back,” Darcy murmured. She hung up before he could respond, feeling her stomach twist inexplicably.

-

Later that night she was riding Steve, his fingers biting into her hips as her back arched. His mouth was on her throat. He had drawn out this particular fuck longer than usual, being careful with his touch and keeping his eyes open most of the time.

It would have unsettled Darcy if it was anyone else. They were sweaty and panting, rutting together on his couch with the fans going to try and circulate some of the humid air. She was so close and he could sense it, his thumb pressing onto her clit and rubbing in rough circles. She knew he liked her like this the most, open and desperate, longing for release.

She whimpered and came, clenching around him. Steve followed soon after and pressed her mouth to his at the last second as he tensed. Once they separated, Darcy panted beside him on the couch, wiping her face. They were both naked and she tried to remember where her skirt was. She vaguely remembered Steve tossing it aside as they came in.

He hadn’t mentioned her birthday and neither had Darcy. It felt wrong to address it now, but she sensed it was coming with how he looked at her. Darcy found some tissues and cleaned up, before padding into the kitchen and getting a glass of water. She saw Steve take off for the bathroom, and she hummed tunelessly, for once not missing her phone. She walked back to the couch and pulled her clothes back on, and then she went and used the rest room.

She walked toward the bathroom, seeing the door was ajar.

“I need to wash my hands.”

“Go ahead.”

Steve’s voice sounded strange, which made Darcy pause at the door.

“You okay?”

He didn’t reply and when she pushed open the door she saw him sitting in the empty bath with his pants on but nothing else and her eyes widened.

“Steve.”

She washed her hands, wiping them on her skirt. She lowered herself so that she was kneeling on the tiles, searching his face.

Steve was sitting with his knees drawn up and staring straight at the wall.

She reached for him, running her fingers through his hair. He barely responded and Darcy remembered Super Tuesday and his Xanax.

 _Now I just have them for moments like this._ He didn’t just mean Carol or other people. He meant himself as well and Darcy felt like such a fool, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed deep within her chest.

“Hey,” she whispered, and his eyes met hers, and Darcy thought she might cry.

He didn’t say anything, so Darcy stood up, stepping into the bath. She lowered herself, sitting in front of Steve and taking his arms to wrap around her middle.

His lips pressed into the back of her neck and she blinked back tears.

“Tell me a story,” she said, her voice a little steadier than before. “Something about your childhood.”

“Not a lot of good stories,” he murmured into her skin. His words sounded hauntingly familiar.

“What were you like?” Darcy asked, looking down at his big hands.

“I was sick all the time. In and out of hospital,” he said. “Asthma. I was really little. Read a lot.”

She couldn’t imagine him as anything other than big. Darcy knew she’d been resisting asking questions like these for months. It was easier to keep a distance from someone if she didn’t know their full story.

“When did you meet Bucky?”

“We were in a home together.”

Darcy hadn’t known Steve was in a home. She knew his mom was dead but she didn’t realize it was that tragic a story.

“Why were you -?”

“My mom died when I was ten,” Steve said, and Darcy sucked in a breath. “My dad died when I was a baby.”

He’d said he and Bucky grew up together. Darcy swallowed.

“Bucky stopped the bigger kids from kicking the shit outta me all the time. Probably didn’t help I instigated a lot of the fights I got into,” Steve muttered. “I think in every photo of me before I was seventeen I was covered in bruises.”

“What happened at seventeen?”

“Had a growth spurt,” he said.

Darcy couldn’t relate, at least not in the sense of height. She’d never been tall and she stopped growing in middle school. She just got bigger in other places sooner than other girls.

“Then you were in the Army,” Darcy added.

Steve gave a breath that sounded like half a laugh. “Is this like _David Copperfield_? You learning my life story?”

“Of course you’d reference Charles Dickens,” Darcy muttered, feeling herself smile. She shook her head. “I just wanted to know.”

“I was in art school and I dropped out.”

This surprised Darcy. “Why?”

“I was lost,” Steve admitted. “And I was scared of…”

He trailed off, but Darcy knew what he meant to say. He was scared of losing Bucky. She pushed forward, awkwardly moving herself around to face Steve and take hold of him again, cradling his face in her hands.

She kissed him gently, though her instinct was to speed things up to the point of aggression. Mouths glided and he opened to her, her tongue pushing past his lips. His hands fell to her waist and Darcy rode the wave of emotions before it crashed. She felt wet on her face and Steve drew back.

They were her tears, not his. His eyes were wider.

“Darcy, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice barely concealing his alarm. “Why are you crying?”

Darcy refused to answer, just kissed him again with more force. She returned to the feverishness from before, hands gliding over his bare chest. Steve was still trying to read her, to understand why she was suddenly a mess. He gave up, giving in to his own urges. His hands were rough and grabbing, teeth dragging against her skin.

There was a man standing outside Steve’s apartment, and he worked for Sam. Darcy hadn’t slept with Steve since Sam was hired. By now it would be noted that she spent a lot of time with Steve outside of work. Within the walls of his bathroom she was able to keep the outside world _just_ outside. When Steve lifted her and rested her on the edge of the bath with his head between her legs she was able to forget everything.

Darcy was crying because she knew there were things she didn’t have the guts to say out loud. She was crying because she was with Steve in his bathroom instead of someone else with the guts to name things for what they were. When she met Steve she felt one thing but named it another. She cried for herself, for the loneliness she always felt even in a room full of people. God, she was so lonely. It ate her up inside.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” she whimpered, and she came with her hand in Steve’s hair.

He resurfaced with his wet mouth and dark eyes, and soon Darcy was pinned to the tiled floor with Steve inside her, their limbs tangled as they trembled together. When he finally came, Darcy was sure there’d be bruises from his fingers gripping her flanks.

All she could do was pant and wait for a safe time to leave.

-

If Steve ever spoke to Sam about her, Darcy didn’t know and she liked it that way. Sam never brought Steve up. There was no asking about why she disappeared from her office in Manhattan to go all the way to Brooklyn some nights.

Daniel from HR never asked about Steve, either. Darcy wondered how she dodged that bullet but didn’t spend too long thinking about it.

There were other issues, particularly the lack of unity within the party. Tony’s nomination was not going over well, as Steve predicted months ago. They weren’t about to make this easy for him.

“Miranda won’t budge,” Natasha said, her chin resting in her hand. “Her rep said she might do a circuit of interviews out of protest.”

Steve and Darcy exchanged a look.

“I have an idea that could help,” Darcy said. She’d mentioned it to Steve before in between sex and ordering pizza a few nights ago.

“More guerrilla advertising?” Natasha asked, but Darcy shook her head.

“It’s to do with Harlock.”

Steve’s face changed. “You didn’t mention him before.”

“I’ll do _Pol-Break_ so the dust can finally settle,” Darcy said, doing her best to ignore Steve. “So there can be a human face to the campaign.”

“He will eat you alive,” Natasha said.

Darcy shook her head. “I know him. He’ll try to ask some hard hitting stuff but there’s only so much he can say on his show.”

Natasha glanced at Steve and then Darcy. “I’m missing something here, right?”

Darcy was thankful for the closed conference door, and for the fact that it was just the three of them brainstorming. Cherie was even busy elsewhere.

“I slept with Doug,” Darcy said.

Natasha blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah, so you can imagine what kind of dirt –”

“Did he do the piece on you because you dumped him?” Natasha interrupted, and Darcy paused, tapping her pen.

“Yeah,” Steve answered for her. “And I don’t want you doing the show.”

“Noted,” Darcy said flatly. “But I outrank you so I’m going to go with my plan and do _Pol-Break_ this week.”

“They would film it in two days,” Steve said, sounding disbelieving.

Darcy got up from her chair. “Well, I’d better get my ass on a plane.”

She shut her planner and picked it up. She gave them both pointed glances.

“It stays in this room,” Natasha said with a nod.

“Thank you,” Darcy replied.

Steve got up as well but didn’t look at her, walking out before anything else could be said. Darcy tried not to react to him storming off, glancing at Natasha.

“Why don’t you date him?” the other woman asked, and Darcy quirked an eyebrow.

“Apart from the ethical reasons?”

Natasha crossed her arms. “We all know those rules are bullshit at the best of times. I just mean –”

“He’s not exactly my type,” Darcy interjected, one hand raised.

“What? Blonde?” Natasha asked, and Darcy smirked.

“No. Single.”

-

Darcy knew why Steve was concerned about her appearing on _Pol-Break_ again. He didn’t doubt her abilities. He was genuinely concerned with how the situation might affect her on a personal level. Darcy appreciated that he didn’t argue about it more, but she felt him somewhat detach from her after that meeting with Natasha, and she didn’t visit Brooklyn before leaving to film the show.

She left _Pol-Break_ without saying goodbye to the host. She barely even acknowledged him before the show, and then once she, Sam and Cherie were alone again her assistant leaned close to her in their cab ride back to the airport with wide eyes.

“I think you did really well.”

Either way, they’d know in a few hours. Once she returned to the office there were still people there, and she offered pizza for those who wanted to watch the show in the conference room. Since Sam had become her shadow she handed him food without asking if he wanted it, but that night he held up a hand when she attempted to hand him a slice of cheese pizza.

“For the love of God, Darcy, stop,” he said, laughing. “I can’t eat like this all at the time.”

“Of course you can,” Darcy replied airily, unrelenting. He sighed and took the slice, taking a bite.

She brushed her hands together and spotted Steve coming through the doorway, hands deep in his pockets.

“Coming to witness the destruction?” Darcy asked, but Steve wouldn’t rise to the bait.

“I’m guessing you blew all expectations out of the water,” he muttered.

He and Sam exchanged a silent look and Darcy ignored it. She didn’t want to become overwhelmed by the protectiveness of the situation.

Once the credits rolled for _Pol-Break_ Darcy sat down with Steve beside her. Sam hovered, and Darcy shot him a look.

“Be honest, Sam. If my CIA agent was watching me, what kind of report would they write about me?”

“They’d probably be concerned by the amount of sodium you eat,” Sam replied. “And how often you Google Jake Gyllenhaal.”

Darcy heard Steve laugh softly beside her, and her plan worked. She felt somewhat lighter then, the tension cut.

“Good,” Darcy said, smiling.

Doug Harlock came into view and Darcy felt everyone in the room hold their breaths. There were less people in the conference room than when they _The Takedown_ segment. Natasha came in and sat down with a tumbler of vodka, which meant she was officially off the clock.

She and Darcy clinked glasses, though Darcy drank water instead.

_“Tonight we have a special interview with Tony Stark’s campaign manager Darcy Lewis. She stopped by to answer some of my questions.”_

Darcy looked at herself on screen and swallowed. She looked calm when at the time she was sweating nervously and she kept her arms to her sides to not show her pit stains. She greeted Doug like she didn’t want to stab him in the eye with her own kitten heel.

_“Miss Lewis, you have received a lot of backlash online for the segment we aired recently.”_

_“Yes. I also just want to take a second to correct something I keep reading.”_

_“What’s that?”_

_“It’s ‘y-o-u apostrophe r-e a slut’. I keep reading ‘your a slut’.”_

Harlock ducked his head, smiling. _“Of course. Currently, you have a lot to contend with. Stern is the preferred President in online polls from multiple sources, and Congresswoman Gunn is yet to endorse your candidate.”_

Darcy nodded. _“It’s a lot, but we have a large younger voter base for us to lean on when the time comes this November.”_

_“You believe millennials will come out in droves?”_

_“Absolutely,”_ Darcy replied. _“I trust my generation to make the right decision.”_

Harlock faltered, and Darcy suspected at the time that he was expecting her to say something snarky in return, or something sarcastic.

 _“You wanted humanity, Doug. So there it is. A little of it, at least,”_ Darcy added, referring to his smear directly. _“The consequences of climate change are at the door and I know that Tony Stark will be the President to take proper action.”_

Doug examined his notes. _“There was a rumor about an element hidden in a message.”_

“ _Yes, it was Howard Stark’s message to Tony. I’ve seen the reels.”_

Doug blinked at Darcy. _“Really? What was that like?”_

 _“It changed my life,”_ Darcy said. _“I felt instant hope, which if you know me personally is a very big deal. You used that photograph of me in that other segment –”_

_“What photograph?”_

_“The one of me sitting on my phone during a science event with my non-profit. I had no interest in what Congresswoman Gunn had to say. It felt as though I heard anything, and I was sick of politicians and false promises.”_

Darcy on screen took a second to consider her words, swallowing. _“I was very cynical, but I know I can’t just sit back anymore and not take a stand.”_

Doug looked at his notes again, losing his momentum. Darcy watched herself wait patiently for him to move to the next question.

_“Your family. We don’t know much about them.”_

_“I’m from Philly. My mom and stepfather aren’t staying at their house right now because of security issues.”_

_“Your father?”_

_“Never met him.”_

Darcy knew the point of that question. Men liked to ask why she was the way she was, thinking an absent father was the cause, or perhaps some other shaky male role model was present. Darcy felt Steve’s eyes on her face but didn’t turn her head toward him.

 _“Is that surprising?”_ Darcy added, and Doug laughed in a fake way that had Darcy thinking he did it to fill the awkward silence. _“Are you going to ask me about policies, now?”_

Sam whooped and Darcy burst out laughing, seeing Doug Harlock lose concentration again.

She finally glanced at Steve and he was smiling at her with a curious look on his face.

Once the interview was over, Natasha scrolled through Twitter.

“You fucking killed it,” she murmured, and Darcy shrugged one shoulder.

As the others began to leave for their desks, Steve, Darcy and Natasha remained. Sam left the room to stand outside.

“I need to do something else,” Darcy said, and she locked eyes with Steve. “The other part of my plan.”

“Might be redundant now,” he said, but Darcy shook her head.

“I think they’ll appreciate it.”

“Who?” Natasha asked.

“The internet,” Darcy replied.

-

She sat at her desk with her hands together, staring right at the camera on her phone that Natasha was holding to film her. Steve stood close by, his arms folded.

“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling a weight on her chest beginning to lessen. “I’m sorry for not taking this seriously before. I’m sorry for not being more open. I’m sorry for not being as serious about the issues. I’m sorry that I was more serious about the spectacle, the numbers, the views.”

She looked down, hoping that it sounded like it came from the heart, because it did.

“You deserve better. We’re supposed to be listening to know what you, the voters, want. And maybe you can point to one moment or several where I’ve worn a mask… but every time you’d be right.”

Darcy blinked several times before continuing.

“But, to be honest, this is far too important for me to be pretending like I don’t care. And whether you’re from my party or from another, you have to see this as important, as well.”

Darcy swallowed. “It’s time we did better.”

Once they uploaded the video to YouTube and then shared it via Twitter, Darcy’s phone began to flood with notifications.

“CNN’s picked it up,” Natasha said.

As much as Darcy loved to hear Wolf Blitzer, the man with the coolest name on television say her name, she wanted to hear just one other voice that night.

It took Doug Harlock approximately half an hour after the video was shared to try to reach her. Darcy noted his missed call and eyed Steve, cocking her head toward her office.

They went in together, Steve shutting the door behind them. Darcy dialled Doug’s number and put it on speaker, waiting.

“Darcy.”

“Hi,” she replied. Steve crossed his arms. “Why’d you try to call?”

“I want you in for another interview.”

“I’m very busy,” Darcy said. She watched Steve watch her and thought of the last time they were together on his bathroom floor.

“I just thought – you were so open. I’d really appreciate –”

“No, I don’t want to,” Darcy interrupted. “You understand.”

Doug let out a short laugh that lacked any warmth. “Alright. Just don’t expect people to be kind.”

“You mean you,” she said. “And the next time you want to use gossip for content, remember that the guys on Reddit got the number wrong. There were five guys at that Harvard party, like the restaurant.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose.

“Also, if you mention that number on your show I’ll be compelled to share our texts. Those voicemails you left for me, as well. They’re… descriptive.”

Steve told her before that it was her integrity that kept Doug Harlock’s marriage safe. She wouldn’t share his secrets just to get back at him for the smear, but she was tempted to make him sweat over it.

“You wouldn’t do that to Lauren.”

“Who?” Darcy said. “No, wait. I can guess what she is. The first word that comes to mind is –”

“My _wife_.”

“Hmm,” Darcy replied. “Hope we don’t run into each other any time soon, Doug. That would be awkward.”

“You sound jealous.”

“What, of her? Because you’re the one that got away?” Darcy said, picturing Doug scowling at her. She began to laugh. “I’d prefer to sleep with _her_ , at least she’s not a man whose forgettable late night anchor job is hanging by a thread. At least she’s not pretending to be a serious journalist winking like some sad creep. You’d fuck a tree stump if you knew it was female.”

She waited, but he said nothing.

“Go ahead, what part is wrong?” she said.

Doug huffed.

She hung up, and Steve stared at her.

“Scorched earth,” he said. “Jesus.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's birthday was absolutely influenced by my own recent one. I appreciate all the sweet messages I got. <3 ily
> 
> The Kid Cudi song they were dancing to when Natasha walked in was definitely [Surfin'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5KgsubkMCA). 
> 
> It occurred to me that I've been a fan of Childish Gambino for ten years now. [sweatpants](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExVtrghW5Y4) is just one of the addictive tracks that have me thinking of Tony Stark and Darcy's clout lol
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)  
> [Oh No! Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40fK1VNd3wlyUOJvuo6HI0?si=i-D8cuWcQ4Gr6fwyJwqYrw)


	18. Part Eighteen: Cute As Hell

_"When you say it like that oh-oh, oh-oh_  
_Let me fuck you right back oh-oh, oh-oh..."_

\- "Say It" by Flume

 

 

**Part Eighteen: Cute As Hell**

 

 

Darcy was spending her summer outside more than she expected. Before June, she was certain she’d never see the sunshine and for a few days she was correct, but soon she made the time to leave the office every once in a while.

Sometimes it involved kidnapping or sneaking out, with either Carol or Natasha, but Steve was never angry. He encouraged it, saying it helped him stay sane during other campaigns to make time for himself. Darcy wasn’t about to get up at dawn like he did to pump weights, but she was skating with Natasha twice a week and spending time outdoors intermittently.

Sam still followed her everywhere and she grew accustomed to his various faces when she said or did something he didn’t agree with. He was like Steve in a lot of ways, which made sense. The more she was around him and Steve she saw herself in them as well, and not just because of their politics. There was a natural rebellious streak in all of the people Darcy surrounded herself with.

She stayed with Steve and Sam in Malibu during the 4th of July weekend, flying on the 3rd in the middle of a heatwave with no end in sight. While spending most of their hours planning further for the convention, Darcy took breaks with Morgan.

She was turning four soon, and Darcy liked to play with her hair while she sat occupied with her crayons. Darcy threaded fingers through red curls and Morgan rolled her shoulders, distracted. Soon she’d be slipping away from Darcy’s reach. She ran around so much it was a wonder she was keeping still for so long, but Darcy knew Morgan always remembered Darcy.

“Monkey, what do you want for your birthday?” Darcy murmured.

Morgan turned her head slightly to look her in the eye. “Books.”

“What? No candy?” Darcy said, and Morgan grinned.

“You give me candy always.”

Her speech was impeccable, like Pepper’s. She looked and sounded so much like her it made Darcy pause, studying her face. It was an unfair assumption that she got every skill from Tony’s side of the family. Pepper was intelligent, and it was a pity she probably would never be given credit for Morgan’s already obvious genius.

“Yes, I do,” Darcy replied. She looked down at the paper Morgan drew on. “A rhino?”

“They’re endangered.”

“Aren’t we all, Monkey?” Darcy murmured, sighing a little. “So, books and candy? What about a Barbie doll? I could get you the astronaut one.”

“Daddy says you’re overcompensating,” Morgan said, enunciating each syllable while she coloured in the rhino’s flank.

“That’s a big word. Did you know your daddy’s fifty years-old now?” Darcy said, and Morgan smiled again, enjoying their conspiracy. “He turned fifty in May.”

“I was _there_ ,” Morgan said, like Darcy was simple. “But I like you overcompensating.”

Darcy chuckled. She knew what Tony was getting at. She lavished Morgan with attention, constantly spoiling her so that she would associate her with positive things. Darcy had no children, obviously, and no siblings, either. She supposed it was accurate to call it overcompensation. She didn’t mind if it was obvious, either. She meant it when she said she’d be there for Morgan if something ever happened to Tony or Pepper. They were her family.

Currently, she sat with Morgan in her room while everyone else was occupied. She managed to get Pepper to leave on time so she could steal a half hour or so with her.

“Darcy,” Morgan murmured, and Darcy glanced up at her little cherub face.

“What, sweetie?”

“Why’s Sam around?” she asked, and Darcy felt her heart sink a little. Morgan bit her lip, eyebrows furrowing.

“You don’t like him?” Darcy asked and Morgan looked uncertain.

“Are you in trouble?” she asked, and Darcy tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and stroked Morgan’s face.

“No. I’m okay. He’s my new friend, like Steve,” she said. “I’m okay. Monkey, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” Morgan said, her voice small.

There were footsteps and Darcy turned her head to see Steve in the doorway, his phone in his hand.

“Hey,” he said, and then looked at Morgan. “You drawin’?”

He came over to the little table and knelt beside Morgan, looking over her tiny shoulder.

“A rhino?”

His voice was soft and it made Darcy’s stomach flip. He wasn’t hovering or uncertain. He seemed relaxed for the first time that day. Sam had to be downstairs watching TV. When they were at the Malibu property JARVIS made it easier with the high security that was installed.

Sam didn’t need to constantly keep tabs on Darcy since JARVIS updated him regularly. It was probably how Steve found her as well.

Morgan gave a small smile and went back to colouring, this time the sun in the corner of the page. She murmured something under her breath and Darcy smiled.

She glanced at Steve who was watching her.

“You want me to come back?” Darcy whispered, and he shook his head.

“Stay,” he replied, and Darcy nodded, grateful.

She felt him watching her as she helped Morgan by drawing puffy clouds.

“You got Tony’s remarks ready for tonight?” Darcy said, and Steve nodded in the corner of her eye.

She was referring to the godawful event that popped up without much notice, causing Pepper to run off like she did early that afternoon to find a dress. Darcy was only attending to make sure Pepper felt at ease. She’d otherwise volunteer to babysit Morgan and have an early night, but there was the possibility Congresswoman Gunn would be attending.

The venue was a mansion by the sea, a lot like Tony’s own place in Malibu, and Darcy was not looking forward to all the bottom feeders likely to try and speak to her to get some quote or otherwise since her apology video went viral in June.

“You don’t have to go,” she added, and Steve scoffed.

“Please. I’m going.”

Darcy shook her head. He didn’t have to. It was his birthday tomorrow, but she hadn’t mentioned that yet, and neither had he. He lay down on the floor and looked up at the ceiling while Morgan and Darcy drew in silence.

-

That night Darcy wore something less flashy than her usual benefit getups, opting for a strapless black jumpsuit and a white blazer she draped over her shoulders. She wore a gold and aquamarine cocktail ring with red nails to match her lipstick. Her hair was the usual Rita Hayworth wave over one shoulder.

When she walked down to meet with everyone in the foyer, Sam’s eyes bulged. Tony smiled at her in his own way, while Steve’s eyes were warm, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

She kept staring only at Steve while Sam chuckled.

“You look…”

“You can say it,” Darcy said to Sam without looking at him.

“You look cute as hell,” Sam finished, and Darcy flashed him a smile.

“Thank you,” she replied. She felt Steve’s eyes still on her as they waited for Pepper to show.

“Alright, Short Stack,” Tony said, jutting his chin at her. “Why’s my kid telling me I’m fifty all of a sudden?”

“I thought she already knew, she indicated as much,” Darcy countered. “And you _are_ fifty.”

He crossed his arms. “You know my dad had me when –”

“When he was fifty-three, I know,” Darcy said. “I pay attention when you talk sometimes.”

Pepper came down the stairs, apologizing profusely. The babysitter had probably been given five different numbers in case of an emergency.

“We’ll come back early,” Darcy said, as Pepper reached them. “We’ll be there an hour, tops.”

“Forty minutes,” Sam added, and Pepper gave a grateful smile.

Darcy shot Tony a look, her hand up. “But not you. You need to dance for coins all night.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at her.

“And I heard about me _overcompensating_ , Tone,” she added.

“Okay, but when she has a complex in a few years about getting what she wants, she’s getting shipped to you,” Tony retorted. “ _Wherever_ you are.”

“Oh, please, Tony,” Pepper said. “We all know you let her walk all over you.” She stood closer to her husband, adjusting his bowtie. “Even if we’re in the White House, she’ll be running the place.”

Darcy glanced at Sam. “Let’s go.”

They drove to the event with Darcy sitting in the backseat, Sam glancing at her in the rear-view mirror while they chatted.

Steve was quiet most of the ride and Darcy wondered what that meant. She may have overstepped something when encouraging Sam to compliment her like that.

She hadn’t had sex in a few days and maybe it showed. While she sat in the backseat and let that interaction mull over in her head, she knew then that there was no way she’d betray Steve like that. Not that Sam ever indicated his flirting was genuine. Darcy was almost certain he knew the full extent of their relationship, and Sam didn’t seem like the type of guy to ever do that to a friend, anyway.

Arriving at the event, the valet took the keys from Sam, who then helped Darcy step out of the backseat, her hand in the crook of his elbow, Steve close behind.

Thankfully inside it was cool and Darcy didn’t have to tear off her little blazer straight away. She nodded at a reporter she recognized and made her way toward the grand hall full of tables with chandeliers hanging overhead.

She separated from Sam and looked around, spotting Gunn hanging by the regular crowd of upper-class liberals Darcy saw. Annoyingly, she was still yet to meet a Clooney of any kind. She still didn’t feel too pleased about celebrities inviting themselves to events like this since it was usually a poorly orchestrated PR move. Not many of the people she saw at these events especially in California did any kind of activism.

She felt Steve’s hand on the small of her back and she tensed. She regretted the automatic response, as Steve looked concerned once she glanced up at him. She was on high alert in a place like this and it wasn’t his fault.

“You good?” she said to him, before he could ask her.

“Yeah,” he replied.

She looked over at Sam and then back at him. “Sam, could you get me a drink?”

Sam hesitated, but Darcy stared him down. “I’ll be fine. Steve’ll stay.”

She knew later she’d be told off but Sam relented, turning his heel to make his way over to the bar. She kept an eye on Pepper, who was standing with Tony and chatting to some football player Darcy vaguely recognized, Steve’s hand still on her back.

“It’s just me, now,” she said, and Steve’s face changed. “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” he said.

Darcy made sure her eyebrow raise was obvious, not breaking eye contact with him.

“You jealous about Sam?” Darcy asked, and he frowned.

“No,” he said. “I just –”

“You’ve never called me cute like he did,” she interjected. She thought about it, studying his face. “You’ve never called me pretty or anything, either.”

“That can’t be true,” he said. “What about the art gallery?”

 _You’re causing quite the commotion_. He meant her in her red dress that night, and not the mural. The obviousness of it made Darcy cringe.

“Okay,” she said, recovering. “But that was last year.”

Steve leaned closer so his mouth was at her ear.

“You are always beautiful,” he said, voice soft. “And you’re killing me slowly right now.”

He moved back, and Darcy felt her cheeks flush for the first time in a while, hoping no-one else noticed the interaction.

No such luck, as Sam returned with a glass of champagne for Darcy, frowning at her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Darcy managed, avoiding Steve’s eyes as she sipped her drink.

She watched Pepper and narrowed her eyes slightly at Gunn, who was moving away from her dull looking husband and making the rounds.

“Darcy,” Steve warned, but she took off, cutting through the Congresswoman’s path and flashing her a smile.

“Miranda,” she said, a little louder than necessary. “Hello!”

She gave two air kisses and threw back some more champagne, seeing Gunn’s disgust start to show on her face. Gunn glanced over Darcy’s shoulder at Pepper and Tony.

“I would like to speak with the Starks.”

“I’m available, or do you not remember the last time we chatted?” Darcy said, feeling her heart begin to hammer at the memory of the bathroom and her back smacking against the tiles. “We never finished that conversation.”

Gunn took a deep breath. “I’m… sorry about that, D-”

“Don’t say my name,” Darcy said, her smile fading. “And what part are you sorry about?”

Gunn looked around and Darcy was aware people were watching.

“This whole scenario has been… challenging,” Gunn said, trying to smile but her lips kept dipping. She was cracking up. “I have not been myself.”

“I bet,” Darcy said. “Then again, in these _scenarios_ … people show who they really are.”

Gunn’s eyes widened slightly, silently begging.

“You’re long overdue for that endorsement, Miranda,” Darcy said, keeping her voice level. She quickly finished her drink, smacking her lips. “Fuck, I am _parched_.”

To Darcy’s surprise, she felt a hand on her arm and Pepper was suddenly standing beside her, smiling at Gunn.

“Congresswoman, hello,” she said, and she kissed Gunn on the cheek. “So nice to see you again.”

Pepper was so good it made Darcy look like an amateur, seeming unaffected by their nemesis. Darcy remembered Pepper crying on the hotel room floor over Morgan and pictured stabbing Gunn in her eye with the tacky pin she always wore in the Gunn 2020 campaign publicity shots.

Pepper’s hand never left her arm, like an anchor to the world. Darcy would not let herself slip into the frightening memories of that stinging blow to her face, Gunn’s hot breath on her face.

“Hello, Pepper,” Gunn replied, smile copying hers. “So good to see you. How’s little Morgan?”

Darcy wondered what Gunn’s screams would sound like if she cut off her fingers.

“Sleeping soundly, I hope,” Pepper replied.

There was an awkward pause and Gunn kept smiling.

“Well, you have so many people to see, I’m sure.”

“Of course,” Pepper replied.

Gunn left them and Pepper let go of Darcy’s arm, sighing.

She still smiled as she said, “I think she is the worst person I have ever met, and that’s saying something.” She met Darcy’s eye. “Let’s go home.”

-

By the time they left, Darcy could hear Tony making some funny remark about Independence Day, so he was running on time. Pepper left with Happy while Steve, Sam and Darcy piled in their car.

Darcy stuck her head in Morgan’s room to see Pepper sitting on her daughter’s bed, stroking her hair.

“She asleep?” Darcy whispered, and Pepper nodded.

“God, I miss her so much, all the time.”

Darcy nodded, feeling her throat tighten. At the rate things were going, Pepper would need to choose a preschool soon for Morgan in D.C.

“Do you need anything? Happy just went back for Tony,” Darcy said, and Pepper shook her head, still distracted by Morgan.

“No, I’m fine. Go to bed, honey,” she said.

When Darcy shut the door behind her, she could hear laughter coming from downstairs.

She followed the sound, barefoot but still wearing her jumpsuit from earlier, the blazer thrown aside. When she found Sam and Steve, they were sitting outside on the deck overlooking the sea and Darcy’s eyes widened.

On the table between them was a little plastic bag filled with a familiar deep green blend. Steve was holding some papers in one hand as Sam told his story.

“Uh,” Darcy said, and their eyes fell on her as she came over to them. “Hi.”

Steve’s tongue darted out to run along the paper, his deft fingers rolling the joint neatly. Darcy tilted her head and Sam began to laugh.

“She didn’t know you could do that, huh?”

“You have asthma,” Darcy said to Steve.

“This helps,” Steve retorted, a lighter appearing. “I have a card.”

Darcy had never seen this side of Steve before. The way he moved so easily made her certain he was an expert. He got up from his seat and glanced at her while she stood transfixed.

“You comin’?” he asked. “I don’t want to smoke too close to the house.”

“I…” Darcy began, and Sam tugged her by the wrist and they followed Steve down the path toward the cliff edge.

In the dark, Darcy could see the ocean beyond because of the lights of the house. The cliff was thankfully fenced off so they weren’t likely to plunge to their deaths at night.

She heard the waves crashing and then the lighter flicking. She turned her head and saw Steve take a long drag, holding it. She smelt the familiar scent, remembering the last time she smoked was a couple years ago with Jane. She felt a pang in her chest at the thought of her friend so far away.

Steve finally exhaled, passing the joint to Sam. Steve looked distinctly calmer already, looking over at the ocean. Darcy watched as Sam took a drag and let it go faster than Steve, smiling at her.

“You’re my security detail,” she said, and he shook his head at her.

“And you try running away from me at least twice a day, and it’s the weekend, so…shut it.”

Darcy chuckled, still not quite believing what was happening. She just stared at them as they passed the joint back and forth.

“You wanna dance?” Sam said suddenly, and Darcy made a face. “I feel like dancing.”

“No,” Steve said, his speech slower than usual. “Darcy, dance with Sam.”

Darcy took out her phone, offering it to Sam. He scrolled through her phone, tutting at her songs.

“Not enough Stevie Wonder, okay? Not enough… _anything_.”

“I like a lot of different people!” Darcy said, irritated. “Just pick something.”

Sam took a gander and picked one by A$AP Rocky, eventually nodding.

“Okay, I like this one.”

Before she could prepare herself, Sam took her by the waist and began to move them together in time to the quick beat, their hips bumping. Darcy felt her face redden but tried to let go, hands going to wrap around Sam’s neck.

Darcy concentrated on the song to not let herself think about Steve watching them, because he definitely was while he smoked. The music changed over to something slower and Sam groaned.

“No, I like this song. It’s beautiful.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam said, hands not leaving her. “But after this we gotta go to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” Darcy blurted, feeling her stomach flip.

“Me, neither,” Steve piped up, and he sounded stoned.

The song they danced to was _God is a woman_ , and by the end Sam was making surprised faces, causing Darcy to laugh.

“Damn, she has got some pipes on her,” he said.

Darcy smiled. “See, I like good music. You just have to let me play my tunes more for you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Sam said, which Darcy knew was his way of saying no while sparing her feelings.

As the song ended, Sam’s hands fell away and Darcy pulled back from him, allowing herself to look at Steve. Sam reached out and shook his friend’s hand.

“It’s almost midnight,” he said.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

Darcy knew what that meant. It was his birthday tomorrow. Sam shot Darcy a glance.

“Go to bed soon,” he said.

Darcy stood her ground, trying to be defiant, but Sam stared her down with only a semi-focused gaze. She took pity on him and rolled her eyes.

“Okay, fine. _Soon_.”

The joint was long gone but Darcy could still smell it in the air as Sam walked back toward the house, leaving them in the quiet dark.

She looked toward the sea, breathing deep and closing her eyes. Steve moved toward her and she felt his fingers thread through hers. When she turned toward him, he caught her in a kiss, soft lips clumsy against hers.

He was needy, hungry. She rode the wave of him and his tongue swept into her mouth. His hands were in her hair, her scalp tingling. When they broke apart, his panting breath mixed with hers while her hands never quite settled.

“You want to fuck me out here, is that it?” she whispered. “Can I catch up to you first?”

He nodded, and they sank to the ground, his little bag from his pocket open as he set to work. Even in the dark he managed to roll the joint with ease. Darcy waited with her mouth pressed against his shoulder.

“Open,” he said, and Darcy obliged, lips parting.

He placed it so it rested against her tongue and she wrapped her lips around it, the lighter coming to life. Her first inhale was a rush, and she coughed several times as her throat burned.

Steve watched as she smoked in silence, feeling the world start to slip further away. The grass beneath her tickled. She felt weightless and yet heavy at the same time. The space of time it took to smoke the joint seemed to warp itself. She felt as though she was seeing ahead of herself while experiencing the present.

Steve rubbed her inner wrist with his thumb, and Darcy lifted her chin, their noses brushing.

When he kissed her again, the joint was still between her fingers. Darcy’s tongue felt thicker, looser. She managed to reciprocate his touch, and soon the kiss turned filthy under the moonlight.

Steve lowered them so they lay in the grass, her hips cradling his. Her jumpsuit would have grass stains tomorrow, and that vague thought distracted Darcy as she tried to remember what tomorrow was.

Saturday – the 4th of July. The convention in two months and three weeks. Tomorrow was Independence Day, which meant barbeques and fireworks.

He kissed her neck, trailing down to her cleavage and nipping at the swell of her breast. He fumbled, and then pushed the garment down far enough to expose her bra. He nuzzled at her skin, making Darcy want to curl around him, to have him inside her right there and then.

He felt so good, and he made her feel so needed. She liked to be needed, by someone like Steve. And yet she knew she didn’t know anyone else exactly like him.

He managed to make his way past her bra and licked at her skin, before sucking a nipple into her mouth. Darcy hissed, feeling his touch go right to her cunt. God, if only they could do this forever.

He wasn’t usually like this, and maybe Darcy could blame him being high for how he kissed her, bordering on body worship. When he got like this, she’d ask him to go harder, rougher. Now she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. She wanted him like this for the first time ever, practically making love to her on the grass. When he resurfaced to kiss her lips again Darcy sighed.

“I want you,” he whispered. “Wanna fuck you.”

She nodded, her face burning. She was flustered beneath the warping haze. She pulled back from him, sitting up to pull her top half back on. She took Steve’s hand and they stumbled toward the house, finding their way up the stairs inside.

Sam’s light was on under his door and Darcy pulled Steve along to her room, managing to knock into the wall. She bit her lip to stop herself from giggling, but once they were snuck inside Steve shook with his own silent mirth.

He looked so beautiful under the glow of her lamplight. Eyes so big with blown pupils, his hair mussed. They undressed quickly, before Steve scooped her up to carry her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his torso. His warm skin was so intoxicating against hers. Again, Darcy wanted the Earth to fall away and just have it be her and Steve together.

He wasn’t saying what he was thinking, and Darcy could tell by the look on his face. He seemed vulnerable, his throat bobbing. She caught him in a kiss to distract him, before he lay her on the bed.

He kissed her down her stomach and Darcy’s hand went to his head reflexively. The first swipe of his tongue along her slit caused her to grunt with her lip between her teeth, and she twisted slightly beneath him.

“Fuck,” she gasped. She was close already, like there had been a steady hum beneath her skin the whole night since he looked at her with his hands in his pockets. She pulled at his hair a little, trying to lift his face from between her legs.

“Baby – _Steve_ ,” Darcy corrected herself, words jumbling in her head. “I’ll make too much noise.”

Steve kissed her thighs and obliged, kissing along her body until he met her face. She could smell the arousal on him and felt around for his cock between them.

Steve sucked in a breath, bucking into her grasp.

“Fuck, you better –”

She cut him off by brushing his tip at her entrance with her eyes glued to his, waiting to feel him breach her. He sunk into her and they both gasped.

She was breathing his air. He was breathing so that she could breathe. She had to be high, because he was looking at her like he something was on the tip of his tongue. He was waiting for the chance to speak.

“How do you want to do it?” she murmured, and he blinked at her.

He moved back a little, pulling Darcy forward to rest her in his lap. He slipped out of her but they rectified it with more gasps and wide eyes.

Darcy rocked his hips against his, and Steve made an incredible sound barely muffled by his tightly shut lips. His chest heaved as he pushed back, and his thumb found Darcy’s clit and rubbed.

As they rutted, Darcy could feel the coil inside her tightening, and once she climaxed, pulsing around his cock, his mouth covered hers to smother her broken cry.

She fell backward, Steve once again on top of her as he slid home, and she had hardly any time to recover as he fucked her in a sweaty frenzy. She thought she might fall apart until he came with a grunt in her ear, his cock twitching inside her.

-

The next morning, Darcy woke with Steve’s face resting on her chest. They were both naked. Someone knocking on the door was what woke her.

“Darcy?” It was Sam.

“Don’t come in!” she called, and she felt Steve’s lashes brush her skin as he blinked awake.

“I won’t,” Sam said, his voice hushed against the door. “Just – is Steve with you?”

Darcy bit her lip, passing a hand over her eyes.

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay.”

Sam’s footsteps faded and Steve lifted his head, staring down at her.

“No point lying,” she said, and he pressed a kiss to her temple.

After a moment of lying there together while Steve traced her navel with a finger, Darcy rose from her lying position, walking over to her suitcase on the floor. She rummaged around in it to find the little bag she was looking for. Inside was a little wrapped package that she took back to the bed and handed to Steve.

“Happy Birthday,” she breathed, and Steve’s eyes widened.

“Darcy…”

“Go on, open it,” she prompted, and he looked down at it for a second before tearing into it.

She waited, hoping he wouldn’t just be polite. She hoped it was something he’d actually like.

“Darcy, this is too much,” he murmured. He smiled a little anyway.

“It’s a little sketchbook, and some fancy pens,” she said, like he couldn’t figure that out for himself. “For doing art on the road, or if you get inspired –”

“Sweetheart, I love it,” he said, and Darcy gave a small smile.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She felt herself blush. She bit her lip, looking at her hands.

Steve put the presents and the wrapping aside, one hand returning to Darcy’s skin and gliding up her outer thigh.

“You wanna lie down for a bit?” he asked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stoner Steve? Yes, please. This was partly inspired by [these tales](https://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/post/182394904618/allthingshyper-wildaboutchrisevans) about Chris Evans, and photos that come with it. This concept Does Things to me.  
> The song by A$AP Rocky that Sam and Darcy danced to was "Sundress". 
> 
>  
> 
> [Oh No! Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40fK1VNd3wlyUOJvuo6HI0?si=i-D8cuWcQ4Gr6fwyJwqYrw)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	19. Part Nineteen: The Convention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this part of the story in my head for weeks. I know that it comes so soon after the Christchurch massacre, but please believe me when I say that I didn't mean for this to be tasteless in any way. I revised a lot of this, but I wanted this to be a reflection of the times we live in. I visited a mosque last Sunday (the 17th) because I wanted to pay my respects, and I respect the victims of very tragedy that comes from gun violence. If you want to skip this one, I wouldn't hold it against you.
> 
>  
> 
> [Christchurch Shooting Victims Fund](https://givealittle.co.nz/cause/christchurch-shooting-victims-fund)

**Part Nineteen: The Convention**

 

 

“ _Morgan Maria Stark!_ Put that down, now!”

Pepper yelled across the hotel room they’d converted into another campaign office for the team, her child still clutching the Red Bull can that she pressed to her lips.

Morgan took a hasty sip from the can before anyone could reach her, and then promptly ducked under the bed with it. Pepper went on her knees after her, Darcy next to her.

“I didn’t think she’d do that,” Darcy muttered. “I’m sorry.”

It was her drink the toddler swiped. Apparently she was curious.

“At least it’s not scotch,” Pepper said.

They watched as Morgan giggled, opening her mouth to hear the fizzing liquid on her little pink tongue. Pepper managed to snatch the can from her and Morgan giggled again.

“Monkey, you can stay with Darcy while you’re up half the night.”

Pepper glanced at Darcy. Morgan didn’t seem bothered at all, crawling over to Darcy and cuddling her. Darcy grunted as she pulled back out from under the bed, placing Morgan on her hip.

“You’re getting so heavy,” she said.

She managed to walk back toward the tables they’d pushed together with stacks of papers and pens covering it. They had two days before the convention and it was down to the wire. Though Morgan probably wouldn’t sleep tonight it was a brief reprieve from all the work Darcy was dragging herself through. She stroked Morgan’s hair and sighed.

“Pepper, I swear I’ll stay up with her but I need –”

When she turned around, Pepper was there with her arms outstretched.

“That’s okay,” she said, smiling at Morgan. “We can keep ourselves entertained for a few hours, right, Monkey?”

Darcy smiled at them both, feeling a tug on her heart. She wished she could throw away a few hours with them but she needed to find Steve and go over more remarks.

She left the room and saw Sam standing outside the door, an expectant look on his face. His arms were crossed and he looked her up and down.

“Howdy, stranger,” she murmured. “You come here often?”

“He’s in his room down the hall,” Sam replied, smiling at her.

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Darcy replied. “And how come you think you know everything?”

She smiled, but her stomach flipped just the same. She and Sam hadn’t really talked about Steve before, at least not explicitly.

“Because you two are really obvious,” Sam replied. “Well… _him_ more than you.”

Darcy nodded, trying not to react so obviously. “I’m glad you’re not blabbing, though.”

Sam’s smile faded. “It’s not very professional of me to talk about your personal life with other people.”

“Oh, you didn’t –” Darcy did her best to pretend she wasn’t uncomfortable. “You didn’t overstep. I just don’t think it’s worth talking about.”

Sam looked like he was holding back and he nodded.

“Anyway, he’s down the hall,” he said, and Darcy gave him a grateful smile.

He followed her as she walked down to his room. She let herself in with the spare key Steve gave her when they arrived a few days ago. If anyone asked why she had it, she’d say she needed her second-in-charge to be close to her whenever she needed him. Professional needs, of course.

She gave Sam another smile before slipping into Steve’s room, kicking off her sneakers and walking toward where he lay on his bed reading some papers. His whole bed was covered in papers, too, and Darcy gave them a glance over.

“More quotes?” she asked, and he nodded.

He picked up his phone and began scrolling, probably Twitter or some emails. He didn’t look at her, so Darcy settled on the bed beside him and touched his leg.

“Steve,” she murmured.

He looked so focused, his mind elsewhere. He was so handsome, and Darcy was sometimes overwhelmed by it. He didn’t look up from his phone, only made a vague sound to indicate he was half listening.

Darcy knew this game. They started this one weeks ago, after his birthday. He was so receptive it kind of blew Darcy’s mind a little that he could on so quickly. It happened one night when she told him to stop making Tony sound like a socialist. Tensions were high because Darcy was trying to run on three hours’ sleep for five days straight and everything she tried to write sounded shitty and uninspiring. Steve did his best to cope with her but once she bit his head off he cooled off, ignoring her when she finally had a decent night’s sleep.

Something about him pretending he wasn’t interested in her made Darcy want to crawl on top of him, which she proceeded to do now in his hotel room.

“What are you doing?” he said, sounding annoyed. “I’m working.”

“Take a break,” she replied. His eyes were so blue. She stared down at him, her hands running up and down his chest.

“Darcy –”

The last time they played this game they ended up barely out of their clothes, rutting together in his hotel bathroom.

She leaned forward, lips brushing his. She closed her eyes, her tongue nudging the seam of his lips. Steve’s hands went to her waist, his phone thrown aside somewhere.

But he didn’t kiss her back. Darcy felt the touch of his hands but his lips were unresponsive. She moved back, eyebrows furrowing.

“What is it?”

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said.

Darcy felt his words like a blow to her stomach.

“Why?”

“I can’t do it anymore,” he replied.

Darcy moved back so she was sitting beside him, not in his lap. She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

“That’s not a reason,” she mumbled. She looked away from his eyes, hoping she wasn’t acting too much like a child. She’d never had this happen to her before. She was always the one who pushed guys away. She was the one who blocked numbers and deleted unwanted emails.

Steve rubbed his face in the corner of her eye and she glanced at him.

“I want…” He sighed. “I want… more.”

Darcy felt her cheeks flush. She wasn’t enough for him.

“Right,” she whispered. She didn’t think it would hurt so much, but then she remembered she’d be seeing him every day until the campaign was over.

She got up, ignoring Steve’s protests as she made her way toward the door and walked out with her shoes in her hands. She nearly ran straight into Sam, who blocked her path.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and Darcy glared at him.

“ _Leave me alone_.”

Of course he didn’t, he followed her back down the hall without saying another word and she slammed her hotel room shut behind her, stalking toward the papers on her desk. She could spend a few hours staring at words until they blurred on the page. She bottled up everything and read and read, making notes for the final speech.

-

They touched down in Denver. Steve and Darcy were only talking when other staff were around, and luckily Sam hadn’t tried to intervene.

Darcy was dealing with not sleeping with Steve by obsessively watching all political commentary, including the far right ones that found out Darcy was half-Jewish. They were having a field day and she was fascinated by their approach to anti-Semitism. And it was that, plain and simple. They thought the Jews ran the world and that Darcy was going to run the White House if Tony was elected. It wasn’t narcissism that drove Darcy to watch. She was able to remain unattached for the most part, until they started on Steve.

“He’s a patriot,” one white thirty-something asshole said with his mouth pressed up against his ginormous microphone.

His identical colleague nodded, but then tutted.

“Except… why the fuck is he working with that chick?”

They began to laugh. Darcy was currently watching this in her hotel room with her headphones on while she sipped a vodka soda she made her mini bar portions. He had one last meeting with Tony in half an hour before the convention tomorrow.

“She looks like she’d be fun, though. I mean most of those girls are. Low self-esteem and Jew guilt.”

They laughed again and Darcy sighed.

“Whatever, cucks and fucking whores, man.”

Darcy tossed her phone aside with a growl, throwing back the rest of her drink. Those people would never stop. They were partly the reason why she still had online trolls after her every day. They were why Sam followed her around.

Of course Steve wouldn’t want this anymore. Most men wouldn’t, except she thought Steve wasn’t most men.

She left her room and gave Sam a quick glance. She paused, biting her lip. She thought about why he was there, and that Steve was the one who hired him in the first place.

“Jesus, I’m a fucking idiot,” Darcy muttered, before she could stop herself.

Instead of acting concerned, Sam laughed and Darcy shot him a look. She felt herself smile despite everything.

“I’m guessing you don’t need me to elaborate,” she muttered. “You already think I’m an idiot.”

“Most people are,” Sam admitted, shrugging a little. “I mean, that’s my _professional_ opinion.”

“Of course,” Darcy said, chuckling. “Professionally speaking, always.”

They just smiled at each other for a second, and then Darcy shook her head.

“I’m not asking where Steve is. I don’t want him to see me,” she murmured.

She shouldn’t be talking about this, at all. She was close to being too close, if that made any sense. She needed Jane or Carol, not Steve’s best friend.

“Okay.”

“I’ve got a meeting,” she added.

“You know Steve will be there, right? You can’t avoid him.”

There it was.

“Yeah,” Darcy muttered. It wasn’t that she acted like a child. She probably just _was_ a child.

She arrived at Tony’s suite with Sam, the silence between them deafening. Darcy was glad that Sam wasn’t pressing her.

Tony only asked about Steve once, when he went to find Cherie with a giant coffee order. They would probably sleep only a few hours before needing to get up again for the first day of the convention.

“He seems… civil,” Tony began, and Darcy tilted her head at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m going there,” he said. “Because I’m seeing me twelve years ago.”

Darcy swallowed. “What?”

“Me and Pepper, before… it was me and Pepper.”

Darcy felt her cheeks flush. “I’m not like that with Steve.”

She knew it wasn’t Tony’s style to have anything close to a filter, and she wasn’t about to talk to her pseudo-family about sleeping with her friends.

“Yep, you’re definitely me circa 2008,” he muttered.

Darcy made a face. “You know the Internet thinks I slept with you to get this job.”

Tony rose a hand. “Wait, where did that come from?”

Darcy pressed on, ignoring his remark. “You should be so lucky to have me. And I am sick of people telling me shit about Steve, like I don’t know, like I can’t see myself from the outside, either.”

“I should be so lucky?” Tony said, sounding appalled. He thought about it for a second, and his face slackened. “Well, yeah. I kind of lucked out with Pepper, too.”

Steve returned and their conversation dropped, moving back to the speech. And then Tony was predictably conniving and said he missed Morgan.

“I love the devoted father angle, Tony,” Darcy said, “I wouldn’t know anything about it, but I appreciate your concern for Morgan but we have shit to do.”

“I’m better at improvising,” Tony said. “My kid is my world.”

“Wouldn’t know anything about that, either,” Darcy muttered.

Steve stared at her, and Darcy ignored his look the best she could.

“Just let him go,” Steve said, and Darcy felt her throat tighten.

Tony left, after promising to come back in the morning. Darcy knew he only left to force them to be alone.

Darcy rummaged through papers, hoping to get back to her room without actually having to say anything. The silence that fell between them as Darcy packed up her papers was harsh, and she felt everything too much, like she was under some microscope.

“Darcy,” Steve said.

She didn’t look at him. “You know, I get it. I know what you want.”

“How would you know? You didn’t give me a chance to tell you.”

She glanced at him as she shoved papers into her bag. They were out of order and probably bent to shit, but she wanted to get out of there fast.

“Give me some credit,” she muttered. Their eyes met and Darcy felt herself still.

“Okay,” he murmured. “But can I still say what I want?”

Darcy blinked a couple times, not saying anything.

“I want to just take you out,” he said. His voice was soft, sad even. “I just want a date. I don’t want sneaking around and pretending, and bravado –”

She knew he meant her bravado, because never had Steve been that good at pretending he didn’t like her. He wore his heart on his sleeve.

“Right,” she muttered. “Except I don’t do dating. I just… fuck around.”

Steve frowned. “You can do better at that.”

“What?” she snapped.

“Pretending like you’ve got no emotions, with your arrogance and your selfish –”

“Oh, my God! And you have to wonder _why_ we’re not dating?”

She began to laugh and Steve joined.

“Come on, Darce,” he said. “What have you got to lose?”

She looked away, thinking about getting drunk on her mini bar and calling him in a couple hours when the loneliness got to her. Or she could be an adult for once.

“Fine. But don’t expect sex on the first date,” she said finally.

Steve seemed surprised, and then pleased.

“Of course not.”

“I’m not that kind of girl,” she said, her hand on her chest.

Steve smiled, head dipping.

When he came over to her to kiss her, she didn’t pull back. And when she heard him fall asleep beside her afterwards she didn’t retreat from his room to her own.

-

Darcy dreamt that night. She hardly remembered her dreams usually, but she knew they were often stress-inducing ones like running through high school naked, trying to find a bathroom to hide in. That or tests she hadn’t studied for. Darcy rarely studied for tests in her waking life anyway.

She dreamt of Bucky, standing in his soldier’s uniform and smiling at her. He opened his mouth to say something, but Darcy had no idea what his voice sounded like, so she heard nothing. She tried to make out what he was saying, trying to read his lips.

She woke up suddenly, sweat on her brow. It was too warm. It always felt too warm with Steve in bed, the guy like a giant furnace beside her. She forgot it was better to kick the blankets off. She glanced at her phone on the floor and saw it was just minutes before her alarm was meant to go off.

-

“Hey!” Carol yelled, coming toward Darcy for a tight hug.

She wore aviator sunglasses, looking way too cool as always. Natasha was with her, Clint in tow with his wife Laura.

“I’m Laura,” she said to Darcy, shaking her hand.

“Thank you so much for being here,” Darcy said.

Day one of the convention was mostly posturing, but it had gone well so far. Tony only made once speech that day to a smaller group of people than usual. The bigger speech in two days was the real kicker.

Steve never left Darcy’s side, and she supposed they were being obvious, now. They kept making little jokes between each other and sharing secret smiles.

“Get a room,” Carol whispered in Darcy’s ear as they stood in the wings during Tony’s second appearance that afternoon.

He was telling the story about him being stuck in the cave in the Middle East again. Darcy heard it so many times she could probably tell the story just as well, but he was being asked about weapons and the topic was bound to come up.

“Think I haven’t tried?” Darcy muttered back.

Carol looked surprised. “Really? Finally?”

“After the convention, we’re gonna find an Italian place,” Darcy replied, her voice still low. She felt Steve shift beside her, probably eavesdropping. He was allowed, since it was about him.

“Oh. That’s so cute.”

“Carol,” Steve warned. Technically they weren’t supposed to be dating since he was still a subordinate.

Carol fell silent though she continued to smile for the rest of the event, as if their happiness was hers to share. Darcy supposed it was. She just hadn’t told Carol that she’d been sleeping with Steve for months.  

After Tony stepped down from the podium, his eyebrows rose at Darcy.

“More press?”

“Yeah, outside,” Darcy said, tilting her head in the general direction of where they had to go.

Tony suddenly tugged her by the hand and she fell into step with him. They weaved through the crowd, and Darcy glanced at Tony. She smiled.

She did love him, and he loved her in his own way.

“What are you thinking with your Care Bear stare, honey?” Tony said, his voice low.

How was she meant to function without this being her job in a few months? She had no idea. She pushed aside that eternal anxiety and they kept moving.

She hated that there was never enough air in these places, despite being massive spaces for thousands of people to convene in. Her dress was sticking to her skin, and she felt her thighs becoming slippery with sweat. She should probably change.

There was a sudden crack that split the air and Darcy felt her heart in her throat. She gripped Tony’s hand tighter, looking around to find the source of the noise. Someone screamed. Then others followed, and then a series of shots.

“Get down.”

Sam’s voice was in her ear, pulling her toward the floor. Darcy met Tony’s eyes in the crowd.

He touched her face. Darcy glanced down, remembering he wore his special bracelet, the one that unravelled to form a suit around him. It was a modified version of the suitcase suit he took to Monaco years ago.

More bangs. Screaming, so much screaming. She felt hands on her and glanced up to see Steve with a gun in his hand, his eyes wild.

“I can’t see ‘em,” he said to Sam.

Why did Steve have a gun? What the fuck was going on? Everything was too fast and then too stunted, like whiplash.

 _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_ –

Another bang, louder. Darcy and Tony were still pressed to the ground. Darcy whimpered, and she realized she was shaking.

The banging stopped. People were crying out. Darcy was tugged up and out before she could properly see the extent of it, but she managed to look behind to see blood. The reddest, fresh blood splattered on the floor, on people’s clothes.

Sam pulled her down a corridor with Tony, other security swarming them with Happy leading them.

“What the fuck is happening, Sam?”

“A shooter,” he replied.

Darcy began to cry. “Where’s… Steve? Carol? Fuck – Morgan?”

“Morgan’s with Pepper,” Happy said. He was listening to his earpiece. “How did we miss that?”

They were shoved into a car and Darcy gripped Sam’s hand because she was scared and she hoped he’d ground her. To his credit, he squeezed back, jaw ticking.

“He must have been inside the convention for hours. Maybe he was a security detail?”

“Who shot him?” Darcy murmured.

“Steve.”

She whimpered again. “Turn around the car right now.”

She was having a panic attack. She felt it start up in her chest. She glanced at Tony, who was pale and speaking rapidly into his phone.

“I can’t breathe.”

“We can’t open a window, Darcy,” Happy replied, sounding conflicted. “I’m sorry.”

“Darcy, breathe,” Sam whispered, his hands moving to soothe her, rubbing her arms.

She felt like her heart might burst. She needed to remember this was partially in her head. She could breathe, she just felt like she couldn’t. She wasn’t about to die. She could have just then, but she hadn’t, right?

She let out a shaky breath. “Someone call Steve.”

A phone was handed to her and she waited, the dialling like a taunt in her ear.

“Hey.”

He sounded out of breath. Darcy squeezed her eyes shut.

“Fuck. You’re okay?”

“Yeah. He’s dead.”

“Who?” Darcy breathed.

“The shooter. Couldn’t save him. I shot him in the chest.”

Darcy sniffled. “Where’s Carol?”

“She’s fine, she’d gone to the bathroom. She was going to follow you guys in another car.”

Darcy put a hand over her eyes. Everything hurt. Everything felt heavy and wrong.

“Steve…”

“Put Sam on, okay, sweetheart? Please?”

“Yeah, I just – I can’t –”

“I love you.”

Darcy cried harder, handing the phone to Sam before Steve could hear the full extent of her sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	20. Part Twenty: El sueño de la razón produce monstruos, or The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was somewhat briefer than I originally planned. If you're not in a good place mentally I would not recommend this part as it has heavy angst.

_So have you got the guts?_  
_Been wondering if your heart's still open and_  
_if so I wanna know what time it shuts_

\- "Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys

 

 

**Part Twenty: El sueño de la razón produce monstruos, or The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters**

 

 

Darcy put her head between her knees. She didn’t try to listen to Sam’s conversation on the phone. She wouldn’t be able to, anyway. There was a roaring in her ears and she couldn’t stop everything twisting around.

She felt like she was caught in several places at once. She couldn’t stop thinking about the blood, and maybe she only _thought_ she saw something but she _did actually see_ –

“I’m gonna throw up,” she mumbled. She sat up again, a little plastic bag coming into view. Someone had emptied it of all its _Stark 2020_ stickers.

When Darcy vomited, she didn’t feel any better. She kept dry-retching for the rest of the drive, her vision blurry. Her head was spinning.

She was suddenly in a bathroom and she didn’t know how she got there, but she was staring at herself in the mirror, her whole body shaking. She knew she was in shock, but that didn’t help her stop crying. She made an inhuman sound, wailing louder than she ever had in her life, trying to wipe away blood she hadn’t noticed before that speckled her face and legs.

Her clothes were ruined. The carpet she walked on to get to the bathroom had to be, too. She recognized that she was in one of the Stark campaign’s hotel rooms. She looked down and saw that even if she didn’t have blood on her, her nylons were ripped to shit.

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Darcy? It’s Sam.”

She closed her eyes, wishing he’d go away. “I’ll be a minute.”

“Take as long as you want,” he replied.

Where was Steve? She saw her phone was on the edge of the sink and she went for it, knocking it in her hurry. It fell to the floor, and then she retrieved it to see the screen was cracked along its side, a long jagged line. She felt her eyes fill with tears again and she sniffled, unlocking her phone.

A sea of messages from her mom. She replied to one, saying she was fine but that she didn’t know much else, because it was the truth and she didn’t want to be calling her mom. She opened a live stream of CNN.

_“At 1:35 this afternoon Denver local time a shooter disguised as security personnel opened fire soon after a Tony Stark appearance at the Democratic National Convention. If you’re just joining us now, details are still unfolding, but dozens may be injured. We cannot confirm the number of deaths so far.”_

Darcy swallowed hard, glancing at herself in the mirror again.

“I’m okay,” she whispered. These usually worked, affirmations at her reflection. She was strong, she was smart –

She was gagging and then Darcy vomited once more, this time just bile. She grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed at her face, her makeup coming off with it. She splashed more cold water on her face and she shuddered. She looked swollen all over, her cheeks and eyes puffy.

She grabbed her phone and rang Steve. He didn’t pick up. Maybe he was too busy, but was he okay? She figured she’d remember if something had happened to him. She didn’t remember seeing him on the floor, but she saw –

She winced, wrenching open the bathroom door and she stopped still. There was security everywhere, and everyone looked up from whatever they were doing to stare at Darcy as she stood like a deer in headlights.

Sam came over to her and steered her out of the cramped living room with its dozens of eyes to one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind him.

“Darcy,” he began, and he eyes widened.

“Is it Steve?”

“No, he’s – he’s on his way,” Sam said. He looked conflicted. “Cherie was shot.”

Darcy felt it like a blow, like the world was now tilting and she’d soon fall over. Sam grabbed her to steady herself because her knees had buckled.

How had she not thought of Cherie? She thought of everyone else. And then Darcy remembered; she wanted Cherie to have some time off because she was working herself to the bone.

“She’s okay,” Sam added. “But Kenneth Jones died.”

Darcy blinked rapidly, feeling more tears. “Ken? What? How did – does CNN know?”

“They don’t want to release it yet,” Sam said. “But Happy told us. They need to do a better headcount, but the convention is overrun with paramedics and people ran out…”

“Who was the shooter?”

“They don’t know enough yet,” Sam said. He shook his head. “You should eat.”

Darcy made a face. Food was the last thing on her mind, despite her stomach now being empty. She shook her head.

“No?”

“Please, I just want to see Steve.”

Sam handed Darcy a glass of water while they waited, watching the TV for more news as it began to trickle through.

The shooter was white, college aged. He was single with no children, with no criminal record whatsoever. His Internet history was disturbing, and yet Darcy was no surprised, considering the types of people her image attracted on forums and other dark circles.

Cherie was in hospital, and apparently she’d been sedated. She was fine, and Wolf Blitzer confirmed Kenneth Jones was dead. Darcy didn’t remember seeing either of them in the hall since she was distracted by either Tony, Carol or Steve.

Tony was with Pepper and Morgan in another hotel, away from any press. There was a scramble behind the scenes to reassess the security, and Darcy took a call from Tony after an hour of desperate waiting for Steve.

“I can’t be on this call for long, Tone,” Darcy murmured, “Steve might call me back.”

He sounded rough on his end. “I should have stopped it.”

“You can’t say that,” Darcy replied. Her throat felt tight. “Even if you wore the suit, he started shooting. He never broke the law until just before that moment.”

“He had about a thousand rounds back at his apartment,” Tony added. “I just know that I could have used the suit to stop him, if I knew.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

Darcy glanced over at Sam, who was still sitting beside her, watching TV. For the most part, Darcy avoided the screen. She didn’t dare look at the photo of Ken they used. She knew which one it was, since it was the same one he used for his Twitter account.

“I need to see Cherie,” Darcy said, and Tony sighed.

“She won’t be coming back, honey.”

“I know, I just… I owe her that.”

She was sure Tony was telling her she didn’t owe Cherie anything, but all other things fell away as the bedroom door opened to reveal Steve standing in the doorway.

His shirt was caked with blood, his expression grave. His eyes met Darcy’s and she rose from the bed, going to him. Darcy felt too much. Fear and anger – fear that this was just the beginning, and anger that Steve would endanger himself like that because he knew it was the right thing to do – she began to shake as she tugged him inside, pulling him into a hug.

“You okay?” Sam asked, and Darcy felt Steve nod above her.

“I’ll leave you guys for a bit. I need to find out about Happy’s strategy.”

Sam slipped past them and shut the door, and Darcy moved her head out from pressing into Steve’s shirt and she glared up at him, taking his face in her hands.

“Who do you think you are, doing something like that?” she snapped. Her eyes spilled over and Steve’s throat bobbed.

“I did what I had to.”

“The gun, was it Sam’s?”

Steve nodded. “I had to shoot him. Sam couldn’t get a clear shot. It’s what I’m best at.”

He bit his lip. He let out a shaky breath. Darcy wiped away the tears that began to fall from his eyes, soothing him. She was angry, but for her own selfish reasons, and she knew it made no sense. Of course Steve took it upon himself to save lives, no matter what it could cost him. She knew it was just like Steve to do it, and it was one of the reasons why she loved him.

She and Steve sat on the bed together, and she didn’t stop holding him for several minutes, stroking his hair while the TV played in the background. She watched it then, and she remembered more.

She saw someone shot in the leg on her way out. There was blood everywhere. People were pushing, trying to shove their way out of the building. She only managed to not get trampled because she was with Tony and his security. She doubted Sam would have been able to handle that alone.

“What happens now?” Steve asked, pulling back. His eyes were red, but his tears had dried.

“We cancel everything.”

“Republicans will use this.”

“They use everything.”

“They’ll use me,” Steve mumbled. “And Ken Jones’ family could sue.”

“Who would they sue?” Darcy asked.

“The party. They should have had more thorough background checks.”

The shooter had worked in Denver for months leading up to the convention. It wasn’t so easy to blame whoever let him in the building.

“He didn’t need a license for his firearm,” Darcy said. She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I need to see Cherie.”

“She was a mess,” Steve said. He took her hand in his. “I got to her fast, but Ken died instantly. Shooter managed to clip her shoulder but – she couldn’t stop screaming. She knew Ken was dead.”

He took a long sniff, rubbing his eyes.

“She won’t get over this,” Darcy said, and he glanced at her, frowning.

“Sweetheart…”

“Even if it doesn’t hurt as much over time, she’ll always remember it,” she went on. She watched as the same aerial shot of the ambulances outside the convention buildings played on television with scrolling text. Dozens injured, three dead. She expected that number to increase as it unfolded.

“She’ll always be looking over her shoulder, and she’ll always wonder how different her life could have been if she didn’t work for me.”

She pushed Cherie to stay all those months ago, paying for her therapy sessions. All Darcy seemed to do was push.

“You can’t do this,” Steve said, squeezing her hand. She met his gaze. “It’ll drive you crazy. You can’t blame yourself.”

“What else can I do?” Darcy whispered. “Solve my problems by _winning_?”

-

The convention was more or less cancelled, with Tony’s speech for the nomination completely scrapped and replaced by one with a more appropriate tone. He stood in the Imperial suite of his hotel room, Clint beside him as the cameras caught it all.

Darcy stood in the wings with Steve’s hand on her shoulder to steady her. The last day and a half had been a whirl of disturbing truths. The gunman had a list of names he frequently spoke about online, and he hated Darcy with a passion. Her illusions were gone. She had no control, and she probably never did. Steve didn’t cry again, but Darcy knew he was shattered as well. He didn’t leave her side, and they slept beside one another. Their cover was blown and everyone knew they were lovers, not that Darcy had said it back yet. Saying it in the midst of the tragedy didn’t seem right. She understood why Steve did it, he couldn’t help it. Darcy made the conscious decision to sit with the revelation and cherish it in her head, nurturing it while she tried to heal.

It was so damn hard not to want to stay under the covers and try and sleep away the loss.

“Today, we treasure our friends more,” Tony began. Darcy knew he barely slept and it showed on his face. “We hold our families tighter and we let ourselves long for a better future.”

He licked his lips.

“None of this seems right, me even talking sounds wrong, but we came here a few days ago to discuss the future. I believe it is still bright, but we need some time to reflect, and say goodbye to those we’ve lost.”

Clint began to clap beside him. Tony bowed out, letting out a breath as the cameras shut off. Reporters were all mourning Ken, because he’d been there to do his job when he died.

Darcy knew he was beside Cherie at the time, from what Steve told her. Despite telling her to take the day off, Darcy’s assistant had been holding her secret boyfriend’s hand during Tony’s time on the podium, and they were probably going to slip away for more time alone before a bullet collided with Ken’s skull.

He was twenty-three, and though Steve was very much in the present, Darcy knew he was thinking of Bucky dying that young eleven years ago. Ken’s memorial was meant to be in a few days and Darcy planned to go.

Tony came over to Darcy, and Steve’s hand drew back so Tony could embrace her. Her chin quivered and she let out another shaky breath. Trying not to cry seemed to always jinx her now.

“We’re going to be okay,” Tony whispered.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, and then she began to sob.

Cherie wasn’t okay. When she managed to see her, the girl had cried non-stop, saying over and over that the love of her life was gone.

“You’re still really young, and so is Cherie,” Tony said.

Darcy pulled back, wiping her eyes awkwardly.

“That’s not so comforting right now, Tone.”

-

Carol held Darcy’s hand during the memorial. Steve stood behind them in the pews with Sam beside him. The whole affair was beyond bleak. Ken’s mom fainted at one point and had to be carried away by some of Ken’s male relatives. Darcy thought she might gnaw off her own lip. Cherie wasn’t there because she’d stopped doing much of anything, and was transferred to a mental health facility back in New York.

Darcy sent her several different references, in case somewhere way down the line she applied for a job elsewhere. She sent her money for medical expenses. She tried calling but Cherie didn’t always get back to her.

The night of Ken’s memorial she turned to Carol and Natasha and said:

“Let’s get fucked up.”

She drank until she blacked out, which she hadn’t done in the longest time, not years and years. She liked the way the vodka made her feel weightless, and she knew she hit it the hardest. Carol was there for moral support.

Darcy was a thirty year-old child and her world had been split apart. She woke up screaming for days on end, she’d cry out of the blue. Drinking heavily just the one time was probably a miracle by grieving standards.

When she woke the next morning with little memory of the night before, Steve was there, stroking her sweaty face.

“I love you,” she whispered up at him, her voice cracked.

She was probably still drunk.

-

It was almost October. Steve was right. Republicans used the shooting as fuel for their own agenda. Darcy knew Democrats would have done the same.

Senator Stern was the Republican nominee and he took two days off of his own campaign out of respect to the victims of the shooting, but then he made an appearance at a rifle convention the following week. Democrats called it bad taste, Republicans called it pragmatism.

They stayed at a lake house in Maine, security flooding every crevice. When Darcy tried to slip away just once for a second to breathe in the fresh air she was scolded severely for it, by some security guard she didn’t know well enough.

He grabbed her arm without asking and she slapped it away.

“I’ve been told by Mr. Stark to keep you under wraps at any given time,” he said, and Darcy narrowed her eyes up at him.

“There is no threat out here. The place was cleared out before we got here.”

“You never know, ma’am.”

“Get out of here, you’re fired.”

Darcy glared at him, and to her surprise he chuckled, shaking his head.

“With all due respect, Miss Lewis –”

“I mean it,” she snapped, crossing her arms. They were standing on the back porch with guards watching the perimeters in the distance. She was surrounded by these men. “Get the fuck outta here, you’re fired.”

“Darcy,” Pepper called, the door to inside swinging open. “Let it go.”

Darcy continued to glare at the guard as he reluctantly moved away, his lips pursed. Pepper waited until he was out of earshot to speak again.

“Tony and I want some time alone, so maybe you and Steve could take Morgan for the day?”

Darcy considered it.

“You mean, you, Tony and a dozen armed guards want some time apart from the rest of the posse?”

Pepper blinked. “Yes.”

“Okay.”

There was a pause between them and Pepper sighed.

“God forbid you try to take your mind off of things, Darcy.”

Darcy looked away, squinting at the men in the distance. She wondered how many bullets they had between them.

“Can you blame me?”

“No,” Pepper countered. “But I’ve been with Tony long enough to know that fixating on it doesn’t help.”

Tony and Pepper set off for the day with a picnic basket, Steve and Morgan in the living room when Darcy found them. Sam was outside with some of the other guards.

“What’s up, Monkey?” she asked Morgan, who glanced up at her.

The little redhead smiled, her mouth covered in chocolate.

“She talked me into it,” Steve said before Darcy could ask about it.

“Hmm.”

Morgan took off, running around the room screaming as Steve laughed, and Darcy found herself smiling despite herself.

“You read any of those profiles I sent you?” Steve asked, as Morgan flopped down on the carpet again, breathless.

She tugged on his fingers, playing with his hand while Steve never broke eye contact with Darcy.

“No,” Darcy replied.

“You need an assistant.”

“Yes,” she replied. “But the one I want isn’t in that stack of profiles, so I’m not interested –”

“Cherie’s not comin’ back, sweetheart,” Steve murmured.

Morgan made a contented sound, curling over on her side and closing her eyes. She promptly dozed off, letting go of Steve’s hand.

“I know,” Darcy said.

She didn’t want anyone but Cherie. She missed her terribly, and the guilt ate her up inside. She didn’t know how to stop it. Instead of arguing with each other, they watched Morgan sleep for a few minutes before Steve spoke again.

“You ever think about kids?”

Darcy blinked at him. “Well, yeah. Of course. Every woman does.”

“But… not so much you?” he prompted, and Darcy glanced at the ceiling.

“I’m a propaganda machine, Steve. I have a very specific skillset, with little room for much else.”

He shook his head at her, but he smirked.

“What, you suddenly baby crazy?” she whispered, making an exaggerated gesture towards the small sleeping Stark lying on the floor.

“I’m thirty-four,” he said.

Did he mean the clock was ticking? Because Tony was living proof that having kids when you were older could still work out. She watched Steve scratch the back of his head and she blinked again.

Oh. He was trying to ask her where this was going.

“You want to do this now, when we’re – _here_?” Darcy hissed, not meaning to sound so blunt but it still came out that way.

Steve glanced at her, shrugging a shoulder.

“I didn’t plan for it right now, but yeah. I’m wondering.”

In all truth, Darcy had never been with a guy long enough to have that conversation about children. Or even marriage. She wasn’t exaggerating when she told Steve that she didn’t date. She really didn’t get that far past sleeping with a guy before she skipped out on them. It meant less attachment overall.

“I don’t want you to say anything just because you think it’s what I want to hear,” he added. “But I also know that you don’t do that with me, you’re just honest.”

“I love you,” she said. It still felt odd to say, still so new, but she meant it. It was surely supposed to get easier to say over time. “But kids and marriage? I don’t know.”

Steve’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a trap.”

He shut his eyes, standing up from his spot on the floor, and Darcy sighed. She probably didn’t need to be that blunt. Morgan stirred but then sighed, still asleep.

“Are you surprised?” Darcy said. She felt her cheeks flush a little when he shook his head.

“Not really.”

Darcy sighed, looking away from him at the floor.

She confronted him about it hours later when they were in bed, the lights out for a good five minutes before Darcy spoke.

“You think about me having your kids?”

Steve turned over toward her in the dark.

“Yeah.” He didn’t even have to think about it, and that made Darcy’s heart soar before she could stop it.

“Even though I’m – well, me?”

“ _Because_ you’re you, Darcy.”

Darcy bit her lip, her hands touching her, bringing her into an embrace. He was warm and steadying, an anchor.

“You said I was perfect.”

“You’re not. It was a dumb thing to say at the time,” he replied. “But I love you, just as you are. I have for a long time.”

Darcy blinked, her hands slipping between them to reach beneath his boxer briefs and stroke him. He took no time at all to get hard, pressing into her palm as they kissed.

He leaned forward so that Darcy was on her back with him on top of her, one of his hands going to find the lamp and switching it on.

“I wanna see you,” he said, his tongue slipping in her mouth, claiming her.

He wasn’t in the mood for foreplay, and neither was she. They hardly ever got a spare moment together, and they still hadn’t gone on that first date. They were way past that either way.

There was a shuffling of clothes and he wrapped her legs around his waist, filling her to the hilt. For a long time, they just kissed with Steve’s hips making shallow thrusts, almost gentle.

It didn’t stop Darcy from gasping. She never had it so good, and she suspected Steve hadn’t, either. She was lost in his arms, but so safe. Almost complete.

“Shit,” she gasped, as he pulled back to slam into her once more.

They had to be very, very quiet. She hated the idea of having an audience and she wanted to have the remains of her dignity intact. When he drew back to look at her, his eyes were bright, consuming.

They were making love. The thought only just occurred to her, and she gasped again, only for the sound to be smothered by Steve’s mouth slanting over hers.

“I love you,” she murmured into his skin. “I love – _you_ –”

She came, Steve’s thumb grazing her clit precisely where she needed him. He knew her. He knew her and he chose to stay.

What were they meant to do after this? After the election? She pushed those thoughts away, trying to focus on her coming down from such a great height, Steve looking close to his own release.

“Come for me,” she whispered, and he did, as if on command.

He grunted, his face pressed into her hair as his hips lost rhythm. He spilled inside her and the world came flooding back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this part comes from the Spanish painting of the [same name.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sleep_of_Reason_Produces_Monsters)
> 
> Folks, I've been going through it lately. Someone in my family died. Her name was Lily and she was only ten days old. The world is sometimes a horrible, ugly place. I needed to pour myself into something to get through some of it. I appreciate every one of you who chooses to read my stories. Thank you for being a part of my fandom escapes. 
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	21. Part Twenty One: Mushu Pork

_"Okay ladies, now let's get in formation, I slay_   
_Prove to me you got some coordination, I slay_   
_Slay trick, or you get eliminated, I slay..."_

\- "Formation" by Beyoncé

 

 

**Part Twenty One: Mushu Pork**

 

 

Darcy knew it would be easier to let herself become numb to the world, to bury herself away from the dangers of it.

Because she was… _her_ , she didn’t have a choice. She knew she would never give in, no matter how many times she thought of Ken and Cherie, and the gunman Steve killed.

It didn’t stop her from not wanting to hire a new assistant. She instead promoted Steve to be her campaign co-manager. Natasha was then promoted to deputy.

They were at their first rally since staying at the cabin in upstate New York, the sun beating down on the stage. It was unseasonably warm and Darcy was dabbing at her hairline every few minutes to sop up her sweat. She was just glad she’d worn a skirt the thinnest of nylons instead of a pantsuit.

Steve wore his shirt with the sleeves rolled up, looking handsome and focused with his aviator sunglasses on, his hair combed back. He kept scratching his beard, probably regretting that he kept it growing since before the DNC.

“Just as long as Tony doesn’t raise his arms they won’t get a photo of his sweat patches,” Steve muttered.

They both knew Tony would sweep his arms around theatrically. Darcy sighed, going back to fanning herself with a piece of paper. She should have sat in the shade.

Tony started answering questions and Darcy felt Steve’s hand on her shoulder, soothing her. She smiled up at him for a second before turning her gaze back to the stage.

As if on cue, Tony raised his arms, readying himself to leave. He waved at the crowd, blowing a kiss toward the mass of people that shouted ‘Tony 2020’ over and over. Tony flashed a grin at Darcy and she gave a little smile back, clapping along with the crowd.

Tony began to walk toward the edge of the stage to step down, but then his face changed, his smile faltering. He suddenly stumbled, and Darcy felt her heart in her throat.

There was an outcry amongst the crowd. It was a disturbing image, Tony falling over like he did.

“Shit!” Darcy hissed, and she instinctively ran toward him, people still yelling in the crowd.

Tony looked like he’d passed out, and she grabbed his shoulders to study his face. He was breathing, and when he came to there were several people sitting around him to shield him from the cameras and people beyond the podium.

He looked white as a sheet and Darcy stroked his face as he blinked up at her.

“You good, kiddo?”

“Tony, for fuck’s sake,” she whispered, her heart hammering.

He squeezed her hand, his grip weaker than usual. Darcy glanced at Rhodey whose mouth was a hard line. Steve was ushering a medic over, pushing aside some onlookers to reach Tony.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Tony said, sounding irritable for the first time. “I just got dizzy.”

“Maybe God finally decided to strike you down, Tone,” Rhodey said, but Darcy didn’t feel like laughing, not after the last few weeks they’d had.

“Someone make sure Morgan doesn’t see the footage,” Darcy called out, and she heard a couple staffers run off. The last thing Morgan needed was fresh nightmare fuel.

It turned out to be heat exhaustion, but the damage was done. Suddenly news outlets were proclaiming Tony’s heart was acting up. Then the jokes came soon after – Iron Man didn’t have enough iron, so he fainted. It all made Darcy roll her eyes because it meant derailing the real issues behind the campaign.

-

Darcy hitched Morgan slightly higher on her hip, straining a little to keep her upright in her arms.

“You’re getting too big, Monkey,” she grunted.

Morgan seemed at ease, sipping her Capri Sun pouch contentedly, sighing.

“You need to get stronger,” the little redhead replied, and Darcy’s mouth fell open in mock astonishment.

“Excuse me, little miss! The audacity!”

Morgan just giggled, and then Darcy finally put her down, taking her little chin between her finger and thumb to angle her little cherub face up at her.

They were standing on set only a couple blocks away from the Stark mansion for a magazine shoot. Darcy wore her outfit already, waiting for her turn to be made up. Her hair had just been washed and set in hot rollers. She knew she looked a little messed up but it wouldn’t be long before she was posing with Morgan, Pepper, Natasha and Carol.

Darcy came up with the idea after yet another Internet troll complained that Tony Stark’s campaign had turned into an estrogen-filled joke.

Sam was walking by, touching his earpiece when Darcy waved him over, Morgan swinging on her arm.

“Where’s Steve?”

“He went shopping,” Sam replied, and Darcy rose her eyebrows.

“He knows we’re busy here, right? He better be buying me something.”

The shoot took a few hours and Morgan was easily distracted, but the photos were fantastic. There were several monochromatic shots that made Darcy think of vintage album covers. She knew it may never happen again, since she was so busy. Carol was a last minute arrival, her own schedule keeping her tied up in Chicago for weeks on end.

Once the team moved onto pictures of just Pepper and Morgan together, Darcy met the woman who tagged along with Carol.

“This is Val,” Carol said, nodding at the young African American woman with long braids.

“Hey, I’m Darcy,” Darcy replied, shaking Val’s hand.

Val laughed. “I know who you are.”

Pepper was posing with Morgan sitting on her lap, her arms wrapped around her. Darcy felt it tugging at her heart, seeing Pepper so happy with her daughter. She was so glad that Pepper was more herself those days, despite everything she’d been through during the long campaign.

Val gestured to the catering table several feet away.

“I’m gonna get some fruit, you want anything?”

Darcy and Carol shook their heads. They watched Val leave, and Darcy could see Carol was trying not to smile too wide.

“Okay, who is that?” Darcy asked in a low voice.

Carol shushed her, slapping her arm. Darcy had never seen her this way before, blushing and self-conscious. She’d seen Carol on a podium addressing thousands of people, never affected by her nerves.

“Her name is Val and she volunteers at a women’s shelter.”

Darcy turned her head slightly to watch Val picking up pieces of pineapple with a pair of plastic tongs.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.”

Carol met her gaze. “Darce… I’m gay.”

Darcy broke out into a smile, grabbing Carol and hugging her tight. She hadn’t known Carol to date anyone the whole time she’d known her, and she was touched that she trusted her with this secret.

Carol gave a laugh of relief, pulling back from Darcy’s embrace. She hesitated before adding:

“Should… I tell people?”

Darcy knew what she was asking. Would it affect the campaign? It would undoubtedly affect Carol’s political career, but it might not be negative. Darcy didn’t want to discourage Carol being her authentic self.

“There’s no rush,” she replied, and Carol nodded. “Do whatever you want.”

Carol nodded once more. Val returned, putting her arm around Carol’s waist. Darcy flashed them both another smile.

She was happy Carol found someone. She just hoped she didn’t feel the need to hide forever. Darcy had hidden from love for the longest time, perhaps her whole life. She knew it could get lonely even if she was having fun with casual hook-ups.

“What’s Val short for?” Darcy asked, and Carol began to giggle.

Val rolled her eyes. “It’s not Valerie or Valma.”

Darcy crossed her arms, tilting her head and waiting.

Val sighed. “It’s short for Valkyrie.”

-

Steve had his hand over the mouthpiece of his landline a few days later, calling out to her from across the headquarters main floor space, people running around.

Darcy was signing something for an intern and then walked over to Steve, eyebrows raised.

“It’s one of Stern’s reps,” Steve said.

Darcy’s eyes widened. The Republican nominee was yet to meet her up close. They’d already had two of the three last debates of the campaign but she’d only been in the same room as Senator Stern because of the circumstances of her job, not by choice.

“What does he want?” she asked, and Steve shrugged.

“Wants to meet up with you.”

Darcy sensed a stunt, biting her lip. She watched Steve for some kind of advice, something that would influence her.

“He wants to see you… alone,” Steve added, and Darcy blinked.

“What do you think?”

She didn’t have to ask. She knew already what Steve thought by the look on his face.

“I think it’s a bad idea.”

She nodded. Then he surprised her:

“I mean bad for him. The poor guy’s about to get slaughtered and he wants a truce with you? God help any man that pisses you off.”

Darcy flashed a grin, making grabby hands at the phone he still held. She took it from him, clearing her throat.

“Am I speaking to Darcy Lewis?”

Darcy smirked down at Steve, her eyes going to the little patch of chest hair that peaked out from under his flannel shirt.

“This is she.”

Steve snorted at her posh, airy tone.

“Senator Stern would like to make your acquaintance. Tonight, if possible.”

“I will allow it,” Darcy replied.

Steve began to laugh louder, covering his mouth with a hand.

-

Darcy rode in an Uber to Chinatown, reapplying her lipstick in the front facing camera on her phone. She had some idea about how this would go. Senator Stern was the predictably philandering type of politician. He was known as being deceptively charming like a true narcissist.

Darcy had been accused of being a narcissist by more than one man in her long career of getting up people’s noses, but she knew she cared deeply about several people in her life. Steve wouldn’t be with her if she wasn’t who he wanted.

Darcy walked into the restaurant, seeing it was empty except for one booth at the back where Stern sat, already eating.

A security guard wearing all black moved into her path and Darcy paused, quirking her eyebrows up at him. He reached out to pat her over her coat, another guard that could have been his twin taking her purse and looking through it.

“Phone off,” one of them grunted, and Darcy obliged, putting her phone away in her purse that was handed back to her.

They moved out of her way and she sidled up to Stern, swinging her hips. His eyes fell to her chest before they reached her face.

“Miss Lewis, I’m so glad you decided to come.”

She took the seat opposite him, folding her hands on the table.

“Senator.”

He gestured to the different plates of food in front of them while he chewed his mouthful.

“Please help yourself.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Darcy muttered.

He picked up another piece of some type of meat with his chopsticks, nodding at it.

“The mushu pork is the best in the world, and takeout never does it justice, it really doesn’t.”

Darcy stared at him and he blinked a couple times.

“Unless you’re kosher?”

“I’m not hungry,” Darcy replied.

Stern shrugged, eating some more. She waited for him to finish his mouthful. She got the feeling he didn’t give a single shit about wasting other people’s time.

“How’s the campaign treating you?” he asked.

She flashed a brief smile. “I’d be more concerned about my own campaign if I were you.”

“You’re beating me in the numbers, sure. But overall I feel it’s not a numbers game,” he said, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

Darcy let out a laugh because it was directly the opposite of the truth. Politics was nothing but a numbers game, whether it was about money or votes. She threw her head back as she laughed, one of the bodyguards staring at her from his post.

“You like numbers, Darcy,” Stern added, his voice different from before.

She didn’t like him saying her name. Something about it made her skin crawl. She glanced at him, seeing his face had also changed.

“How much is Stark paying you?”

“He’s paying me in Monopoly money,” Darcy said, shrugging. It didn’t matter what she said, Stern already had made his mind up about her, she could tell by how he was looking at her now.

“I heard it’s 3 million if he wins.”

“ _When_ he wins,” Darcy corrected, flashing another smile. “ _When_ he wins, Senator.”

 He flashed his own smile, fake and never reaching his cold eyes.

Darcy had met so many men like him in her life, especially during law school. They were all the same, never quite strong enough for her tastes. They masked their insecurities with aggression and they didn’t know that it was so obvious, especially to the women they attempted to intimidate.

“Is this a truce?” Darcy asked.

“I think it’s common curtesy to inform you that secrets are about to come out.”

Darcy tried her best to keep her face neutral.

“ _More_ secrets to come out,” Stern amended. “But first I want to know what you know about me.”

Darcy’s eyes dipped to his bowl as he shovelled more fried rice into it.

He couldn’t mean the Harvard guys, or taking drugs. That was covered already. She watched him eat a couple more mouthfuls, considering his words.

She’d done her own research, or more accurately, Natasha had gone out of her way to secretly research Stern’s past. He had a secret family in Vancouver, his mistress precisely thirty-two years his junior. His youngest child was four years old.

Darcy stared at him.

“I don’t do that. I don’t use personal information to ruin people,” she said. She knew she sounded on the edge of defensive. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your family’s lives.”

Stern made a face at that, like she was amusing to him.

“I think that’s… admirable. But also misguided.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes.

He shrugged, chewing some more. “Doug Harlock’s wife is about to leave him. She found out about his exploits through a _New York Times_ reporter that contacted her yesterday.”

Darcy didn’t have to ask. She knew Stern planted that story. If it was revealed that she had an affair with Harlock it might affect the campaign but it could be worse. Rumours about her being Tony’s lover that slept her way to the top was already out there for months.

“Harlock has been assaulting women for the last fifteen years, maybe longer.”

Darcy’s stomach dropped. She glanced away, at the door she came in through before.

“I’ll deny it,” she said, her eyes swinging back to Stern. “Because he didn’t assault me. It was consensual.”

Stern nodded. “I know. But you’re on the list of women being published tomorrow.”

Darcy felt the anger rise and she couldn’t conceal it. She was overcome by her fury.

“You don’t give a shit about women. You voted for limitations on abortion every single time for the past thirty years.”

“See what I meant? Not really a numbers game anymore,” he replied, shrugging. “Since you’ve used the Internet for your campaign so much I thought I’d take a leaf outta your book.”

Darcy glared at him as he continued.

“I’ll deny it,” Darcy said again, her voice like ice.

She saw one of the guards touch his concealed weapon in his jacket and she met his gaze. She was walking a thin line. The second she got too passionate she’d be escorted out.

“You’ve got…” Stern glanced at his Rolex. “About ten hours to do damage control.”

Darcy stared at the bit of food he’d managed to miss with his napkin. She had to remember that she was stronger than this, that she’d withstood more just weeks ago. She remembered washing away blood in her hotel shower. She remembered Steve’s ruined shirt.

“If you want a truce, what will it take?” Darcy murmured, her voice less acidic.

Stern swallowed, putting down his chopsticks.

“I want you.”

Darcy blinked at him. So much in just three little words.

“You see…” He nodded at one of the guards, who took away his plate, disappearing into a back room. “I have no problem with women expressing themselves sexually. Hell, life is short. I would be hypocritical if I actually believed that women were the problem, not men.”

Darcy stared at him.

“I’ve made a career out of _appearing_ to be hypocritical,” Stern added. He winked at her and Darcy felt revulsion like no other. “What instrument does Calvin play?”

Calvin was his illegitimate son. Without missing a beat, Darcy answered:

“He’s started piano but prefers his swimming lessons.”

Stern chuckled. “I want you, one way or another. You can work for me, or work under me. Do you understand what I’m saying, sweetheart?”

He glanced at her chest.

“I have some idea,” she replied.

They stared at one another for several seconds, until Stern finally looked away, sighing.

“Oh, well. Worth a shot.”

Darcy got up from her seat, grabbing her bag. Senator Stern was not what she expected. He knew he was wrong, he knew the way he voted was not necessarily what he believed. He knew how to play people well enough.

Darcy locked eyes with him.

“Where are you off to now, sweetheart?” he murmured, and Darcy narrowed her eyes once more. “Back to that fucking soldier boy you’ve got cooped up in Brooklyn?”

Mentioning Steve was his worst mistake that night, never mind propositioning her shamelessly.

“Is that what keeps you up at night, Senator?”

She nodded at the bags under his eyes.

“The fact that women like me would have to be paid to spend time with you? That you’re used just as much as you use women?”

“You’re just a skank,” he hissed, and Darcy felt something close to triumph under her racing heart. “Just a whore with ambition, and the world snuffs you out quicker than you can ever believe.”

Darcy tossed her hair for maximum effect.

“God, I hope so,” she said, and she was being sincere.

There was nothing sadder to her than not having ambition. She walked out of the restaurant without another word, hailing a taxi once she reached the curb.

Her palms were sweaty but an impending _Times_ article only seemed to fuel her, her blood rushing as she made her way back to headquarters.

Something had changed inside her since the shooting.

She felt everything so much more, including defiance.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while! Thank you for sticking with this. I'm tempted to write a spin-off fic of Carol and Valkyrie, what do you think? 
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	22. Part Twenty Two: Dudley

_"I started to say sorry, but fuck that shit_   
_You started out hatin', now you love my drip.."_

\- "Started" by Iggy Azalea

 

 

**Part Twenty Two: Dudley**

 

 

Darcy knew Steve was trying his best to accept her for who she was, but having the threat of Harlock’s impending exposé above their heads for the remainder of their night was enough to make him anxious, the closest thing to aggressive towards Darcy in months.

He was distraught. That was the word she was looking for. He paced as when she began to tell him everything, what Stern had told her, how he’d propositioned her.

She felt her face grow hot with shame – not because she slept with Harlock in the first place, because she couldn’t take that back, not ever. She had to live with those consequences because she had her equal part in that little tryst. She was ashamed of her not knowing the type of man Harlock was sooner. In fact, he wasn’t a man, just someone pretending to be one. He was an imposter in every way. She didn’t doubt any story that would come her way. She just didn’t know about it fast enough.

Steve paused his pacing, watching Darcy.

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured, biting her lip, crossing her arms.

“Yes, you do,” he said, a little laugh escaping. “What’s brewin’?”

She glanced at him, warm in her chest at the sound of his Brooklyn accent slipping through.

“You know what Stern called you?”

“He talked about me?” Steve said, sounding surprised.

Darcy nodded. “I’m gonna destroy him.”

Steve’s face slackened, eyes going darker.

“What will you do?”

-

She rose her hand to knock on the red front door at 7.30 in the morning, listening out for any sounds from inside the house she stood in front of.

She couldn’t picture Doug Harlock coming home to this every night, beaming from the doorway at his children, if he ever went on to have any. She knew he had a Spoodle named Dudley that was his lock screen.

She was about to break a couple of her own rules.

The front door opened and the slender brunette that stood in front of Darcy met her gaze, recognizing her. Lauren Harlock was as beautiful as she envisioned, and yet somehow better.

Darcy could smell coffee. She stared back at Lauren for a few seconds.

“Please leave.”

“You’re not going to work today,” Darcy said.

Lauren swallowed, looking uncomfortable. She wore sweats, her hair in a high ponytail.

“No, I’m not,” she murmured, her voice husky. She looked down for a moment, shaking her head. She seemed to carry a lot of weight in her shoulders. They kept tensing and slackening.

“Can I come in?” Darcy murmured.

Lauren’s eyes didn’t meet hers. “Sure.”

Darcy walked inside, looking around the little hallway. TV money bought nice houses. She glanced at all the framed photographs, hearing the soft pattering of doggy feet coming toward her.

Dudley sniffed her hands, circling while Lauren tilted her head toward the living room.

“In here.”

Darcy followed, taking her time to settle on the couch, Lauren sitting on a smaller armchair with Dudley at her feet.

“I’m here to apologize,” Darcy said.

Lauren blinked at her. “For what, exactly? The first time you fucked my husband? Or the second, or the third –?”

Her voice edged on shrillness and Darcy cut her off.

“I’m not sorry about that.”

Lauren blanched, and then she whimpered. Darcy’s lips parted, and she let out a short breath. She could have worded that differently, approached it more gently.

“I’m sorry you didn’t know about your husband sooner,” she amended. “He was never… forceful or even coercive with me. He said something rude once but that’s about it. I had no idea. I wish I knew… so I could warn you.”

Lauren looked like she was about to burst into tears. She covered her mouth with her hand, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I think it would be offensive of me to say I wish I could take it back. Because saying that doesn’t make it right.”

Lauren swallowed a couple times, a hiccup escaping. She took a long sniff, making Dudley twist his head toward her.

Darcy opened her purse, taking out the folded newspaper and unfurled it. Lauren made a pained sound.

“The names in this article –”

“Darcy.”

It’s the first time she said her name, and it made Darcy pause, her eyes snapping to Lauren’s.

“There are others.”

Lauren nodded. “Those were just the ones who spoke out. I know there are more. I might be a little clueless at times but I’m not naïve.”

Darcy let out a short laugh.

Then she sighed, reaching down to stroke Dudley as if to comfort herself.

“I’m afraid…”

“What?”

Lauren looked away, sniffling.

“My baby sister. She’s fifteen. I’m scared he – what if he -?”

“Did he ever spend a lot of time with her?” Darcy asked, feeling her guts begin to twist.

If he touched a minor, she’d find him herself. She’d take his balls for that.

Lauren let out a shaky breath.

“There was last Christmas. He said I was crazy, that I drank too much, that I was making it up.”

“What did he do?” Darcy asked.

“He was holding her wrist…”

Lauren trailed off, before dissolving into tears. Darcy got up, went into the kitchen to find tissues and returned, shoving the box under Lauren’s face.

She took several, blowing her nose. Darcy sat down with her hands together.

“Lauren, there are two options.”

“Which is less painful?” Lauren murmured, and Darcy shook her head.

“Both are bad. But one is inexcusable.”

Lauren froze as Darcy pressed on.

“You go to the press yourself and tell them everything you know, including the time with your sister. We put a case against him. He can’t get away with this.”

Lauren sniffled.

“You know all about lawyers, huh, Darcy? I heard about you at Harvard.”

Darcy supposed it was Lauren’s last attempt at really taking a swipe at her but she’d had a rough few days so Darcy allowed it, ignoring the comment.

“Option two is you stick your head in the ground, file for divorce and act as if this isn’t happening. Option two is the worse of the two.”

Lauren frowned.

“I want to kill him.”

She looked surprised at her own admission. She looked Darcy in the eye.

“I want… to kill him.”

Darcy nodded.

-

“In a bizarre turn of events in an already highly controversial campaign, Darcy Lewis who is co-head of Tony Stark’s presidential campaign is joining forces with Lauren Harlock to expose former _Pol-Break_ presenter Doug Harlock, accusing Mr. Harlock of sexual misconduct and attempting to assault a minor.”

Wolf Blitzer filled the screen in the main living room of the Stark mansion. Darcy leaned against the back of the couch where Pepper and Morgan sat, Tony standing beside her.

“You did good, Short Stack,” Tony murmured, but it only made Darcy shake her head.

“She deserved better. Lauren and her sister,” Darcy murmured. “Them and all those other women.”

There were over thirty of them now. Darcy remained a denier, stating that she had a brief fling with Harlock months ago, which was the truth. She wasn’t going to lie about their relationship to make a point about his character.

Sam was receiving more death threats, and Steve had to remind Darcy to not leave places alone anymore. Yet again, the threat of violence meant hiding away. She wondered if it would ever truly stop. People might remember her for a long time.

She knew just supporting Lauren would not absolve her. She’d have to live with this for the rest of her life. It would be written down forever and thrown up every time she made another mistake. It wasn’t about her personal life. It was her integrity, her work ethic that had been compromised forever.

Darcy let out a sigh and moved away from the couch, going into the kitchen to grab water from the refrigerator. She heard Tony follow her in and grab the water from her, putting it back. He tilted his head toward the hallway and she gave a small, knowing smile.

He put his feet up on his desk while they each nursed crystal tumblers of whiskey. Darcy knew she was far away from his office, off somewhere with her thoughts.

“What troubles you, kiddo?” Tony asked softly, and she sighed again.

“I dunno… I’m just tired.”

There was less than six weeks left of the campaign. She’d gained and lost 15 pounds in two years, drank her weight in Red Bull and crappy Starbucks coffee a dozen times over, she’d been in a pseudo-sexual rivalry with Steve Rogers before it turned completely sexual…

“Where’s Cap, anyway?”

Darcy chuckled. They both knew Steve hated Tony calling him that.

“Putting out my fires. Being disappointed in me.”

Darcy rubbed her eyes while Tony shot her a look, seeming unconvinced.

“Okay, maybe he’s not disappointed. Just frustrated, which he should be.”

He already knew about Harlock. He knew about everything Darcy had ever done and he’d accepted her.

Darcy could hear Morgan laughing in the distance and she smiled to herself.

“What does that look mean, huh?” Tony asked, and Darcy glanced his way.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Darcy rose her eyebrows at him challengingly, and Tony mirrored her.

“Me. Circa 2008. Again.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, relenting. She sipped her drink.

“I look at you, and I…”

Her voice trailed off. A couple years ago she would have cringed herself into an early grave from expressing anything close to this level of sentiment.

“I want what you have,” she finished.

She meant marriage, or something like a marriage. A kid, or kids… plural?

She let the sentence lay there for some time and Tony looked out the window, pulling his feet back to plant them on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Darcy snapped, when Tony drained his glass and kept taking in the view of the street.

“Just checking to see if the world is ending.”

Darcy began to laugh. “Shut the fuck up, Tone.”

There was a little gasp and Darcy’s eyes darted to the doorway behind them, seeing Morgan standing there, pointing at her.

“Darcy said the ‘f’ word!”

“ _Why_ are you ratting me out, Monkey?” Darcy retorted, putting down her glass and making her way to her, wanting to scoop her up like she used to, but she knew she couldn’t do that as easily anymore.

She kissed Morgan’s head a couple times and looked over at Tony.

“I should go.”

-

Seeing Morgan and remembering Steve was still able to lift her with ease made her think of his apartment in Brooklyn. She hadn’t stayed over in a few days.

When she reached his place, her bodyguard said goodnight to her, staying in the hallway outside his front door as she let herself inside.

“Hey, it’s just me,” she called out.

Steve was sitting on the couch with his laptop, glancing up at her. His face softened when he recognised her.

She dropped her bag on the floor, walking over to kiss him. She pulled back, glancing at his laptop.

“Hmm. That for inauguration already?”

“One of us had to start writing the speech,” he retorted, his eyes trained on her as she walked off to his bedroom.

She bent to take off her boots, but froze when she spied the distinct Tiffany’s bag sitting on his bed.

She stared at it, feeling her stomach flip.

“Uh. Did you mean to leave this bag here?” she called out. “This why you skipped work the other day?”

There was a pause from the living room, and then:

“Yeah. Open it.”

Darcy moved closer, rummaging through the tissue paper and feeling a small box inside. She couldn’t stop her heart from picking up at the sight of it.

She just didn’t think Steve would do it this way, if this was what she thought it was.

She pulled the box out and slowly opened it, only to find…

A pair of diamond stud earrings. She blinked at them. She turned back, still holding them while she stalked back into the living room.

She smacked his shoulder.

“Asshole! Don’t scare me like that.”

He couldn’t suppress his laughter.

“You expectin’ somethin’ else?”

She smacked him again but this time he caught her hand, tugging her toward him. He was a little rough, making her want to kiss him.

His laptop was pushed aside and she climbed into his lap, her hands already going to his belt buckle. They managed to shuck down his pants together and Darcy fumbled with her leggings, pulling them off and kicking aside her boots.

Steve cupped her ass cheeks, rubbing her against the hard length of his cock and she shivered, tugging his lip between her teeth.

Without warning, one of his hands left her only to slap back down again and Darcy grunted in surprise. He’d never spanked her before.

She rubbed a little harder, faster against him, wanting him to just get inside her already. His eyes were dark with want when she opened her eyes again.

“That’s so hot,” she murmured, and he gave a little smile, almost hesitant.

“You like that?”

He didn’t sound like other guys, the woeful attempts at being dominant: _Hnng, yeah, baby, you like that?_ Darcy could see he was trying to navigate her tastes still, even after all this time together.

Maybe because it’s him she liked it so much.

He went again, harder, and then again. She groaned, rutting her slit against him, hoping he’d dip inside.

“Fuck me. _Fuck_ me.”

She caught him in a greedy kiss and he spanked her again, soothing it with a rub of his hand.

His other hand grabbed her jaw, and Darcy panted as he wrenched her away from his mouth.

“Maybe I’ll make you wait a while for that ‘asshole’ comment.”

Darcy grabbed his hand and sucked a finger into her mouth, locking eyes with him.

His dick resting against her cunt twitched but Steve doesn’t relent.

“That won’t sway me.”

Darcy sucked a little harder and Steve growled, jerking his hips against her and Darcy moaned. She got the feeling this time he’d make her see stars. The last time that happened he covered her mouth with one of his huge hands, smothering her scream.

“You’re playin’ with fire.”

Darcy flashed a smile. “Pretty please?”

“You know I was workin’ when you came in?”

“Please.”

They’re back to the nuisance game, or Darcy is a Sexy Nuisance game. She circled her hips a couple times, pressing his hand to her chest, encouraging him to squeeze her tit.

His eyes are glued to her as he lifted her off him, scooting her even closer. With almost an aching slowness to his pace, he lowered her, inching himself inside her.

Darcy sucked in a breath.

“Please.”

She said it against his lips.

“Please.”

He shoved into her to the hilt and she cried out.

Steve proceeded to grab her by the ass and lever her up and down, dictating the pace. He was rough with each buck of his hips, Darcy trying her hardest to hold on.

He snaked a hand to rub the side of her clit, making her clench around him, readying herself for the impending bliss.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Steve. Don’t fucking stop. Don’t stop –”

She saw white, holding her breath as her whole body seized. By the time she came down, she’s milked him completely, his face pressed into her chest.

He rocked her back and forth on his lap until he was oversensitive, panting into her neck.

He blinked a few times, as if he’d been revived. She grabbed his face, kissing him, and he whimpered, his bossy act at last completely gone.

He kissed her back, drowsy. He looked at her mouth and then at her eyes like always.

“So did you like the earrings?”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be sad when this is over. Goddamn it. 
> 
> Also, I was just going to do a cut away scene but thought hey, I'll write some smut. Why the hell not?
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	23. Part Twenty Three: Politically speaking, of course

 

 

_"I guess I couldn't help trying to be your best American girl_

 

_You're the one_  
_You're all I ever wanted..."_

\- "Your Best American Girl" by Mitski

 

 

 

 

**Part Twenty Three: Politically speaking, of course**

 

 

“I – don’t – like – it – here,” Darcy sing-songed, punctuating each word with a clap.

She stood with Carol, Val, Steve and Sam under the midday sun, each of them dressed for the stifling heat. It was unseasonably warm once more in Houston, Texas.

It was the day of the final debate and they were all out to take a break for an hour or so before returning to the hotel for preparations.

“Controversial, I know,” she added.

They were standing near a museum with a Confederate flag in front of it. Darcy crossed her arms.

“Yelp said this place was alright,” Sam said. “Feel like I’ve been played, though.”

“I feel like a lot of us don’t belong in this neighborhood,” Carol murmured, giving Val an apologetic glance.

“I mean,” Darcy said, shrugging. She pointed to herself. “Woman.”

Carol pointed at herself. “Gay woman.”

Sam chuckled. “Black.”

“Black gay woman,” Val said, smirking. “I win.”

Everyone looked at Steve.

“I’m a socialist.”

Darcy snorted. “I think we should head back. Or at least find some shade.”

-

Carol shared a video on her Instagram of everyone sitting around the table deliberating, heads down looking at papers and screens.

Darcy sat on Steve’s lap to save room, writing something on a scrap of paper while his head was turned to speak to Tony.

Darcy watched it several times over, feeling the warm in her stomach. Soon these times together would be over. She knew it was going to be hard to let go.

Even choosing the last few songs that they’d be using for Tony’s final rallies caused her heart to ache. It became harder to see the things right in front of her, knowing what was ahead.

-

Darcy wore her usual sharp blazer, thankful for the AC pumping cool air behind the stage where staffers convened, Tony being powdered by the makeup artist. One of the interns went at him with a lint roller.

Darcy saw a staffer walk over wearing a Stern badge and she exchanged a glance with Steve, wondering what was about to happen.

“Senator Stern wants to talk.”

“To whom?” Darcy said, folding her arms.

“You.”

Steve looked at her again. The staffer didn’t even glance in his direction, staring straight at Darcy.

“You alone.”

She knew Steve probably wanted to stop her because she was still volatile despite following his advice more often. She knew there was only so much Stern could do with people running around behind the scenes. They were minutes away from broadcast. He wasn’t an imminent threat.

She followed the staffer, moving past groups of press and other crew from the production, her shoes tapping on the wooden floors.

The staffer disappeared the second they reached a tiny office with Stern standing inside, smoking a cigarette.

“I know it’s not allowed, but…” he murmured. He meant smoking inside.

Darcy didn’t greet him. She wanted to make sure he knew he’d have to speak first to properly engage.

“Some dickhead will probably come in here wanting to pry us apart in a second but I thought we should catch up.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, before staring at the ceiling.

“I’m gonna mention gun control right off the bat.”

“Imagine my surprise,” Darcy replied.

“Your boyfriend likes guns, I thought,” Stern said, looking amused by her disdain. “He knows how to use them pretty well. Being in the Army and shooting that fella in –”

Darcy cut him off, snapping her eyes to his. “That’s precisely _why_ he doesn’t think people should be able to buy so many guns, with so little red tape.”

“And abortion. I’ll mention that a couple times.”

“How many abortions have you paid for, Garrett?”

His face changed. “If you’re asking, you already know.”

“I didn’t know, actually,” Darcy said. She flashed a smile. She honestly didn’t care. At least those women weren’t forced to go through with a pregnancy. She just hoped none of them were forced to terminate.

Stern shook his head, taking a drag and blowing it in her general direction.

“You could work for me. We’d do well together. After all this,” he said.

Darcy blinked a couple times. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

He gave a chuckle. “But you can’t be bought.”

“No, it’s because I like it when you get mad,” she replied, smiling more. She saw the flash in his eyes at her petulance. “And you get mad because you know you’re gonna lose.”

He mashed his cigarette on a plate on the desk and blew the remaining smoke out, shaking his head.

“I’ve met so many girls like you. All of them teeth and tits.”

Darcy leaned a little closer, lowering her voice.

“You’ve never met any girl like me before.”

She levelled his gaze, smiling wider. She knew why he was doing this, throwing his weight around and trying to make her feel small and weak. He was terrified of the power she had, and that she was a woman of her age and status able to defeat him. She’d seen it in so many men before.

The one guy that told her she fucked like a man, as in, she did it for herself and that that was an inherently masculine thing… that man was wrong.

She touched his tie, brushing a bit of ash away.

“I guess in this story, people would think I’m the hero,” she murmured, glancing at his greying hair, the lines on his face. Her smile vanished. “But I’ve been the bad guy the whole time.”

He probably thought she was crazy, and maybe Darcy was a little unhinged. It wouldn’t surprise her.

She suddenly snapped her jaws, giggling at his shocked face. Rarely did anyone truly see this side of her.

She stepped back and Stern finally let out a breath of a laugh. He seemed almost impressed, if he didn’t look so scared just seconds before.

“I’m looking forward to the moment where I bend you over a desk, Darcy Lewis,” he said, his laughter fake. “Politically speaking, of course.”

Darcy flashed a smile, moving toward the door. She grabbed the knob and opened it.

“I can’t wait until I can press my boot to your throat,” she murmured. “Politically speaking, of course, Senator.”

When Darcy got back to Steve and the rest of her staff, she put an arm around Natasha’s shoulders and kissed her face, the blonde laughing in pleasant surprise.

“What did you do?” Natasha murmured, and Darcy felt Steve watching her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

-

Several hours later, Darcy was bobbing in the hotel swimming pool, Sam leaping in to splash her.

She yelped, wiping water from her face. Sam resurfaced, glancing at Natasha on the edge.

“Romanoff, come on.”

Natasha jumped gracefully and Darcy shook her head. Would that woman ever stop being poised?

Steve and Carol followed, Val already lying on her back and floating a few feet away.

Natasha whipped the hair out of her face, flashing Darcy a smile.

“Where’s Clint?” Darcy asked.

“Sleeping,” Natasha replied, and they both laughed, knowing they should all be doing the same.

The debate made Darcy restless and she was glad to not be the only one staying up. She didn’t get to see Natasha as much. Even though the Russian-born political mastermind had become her deputy, she’d still been helping support Clint’s camp with his bid for V.P. Darcy didn’t get to see her as much the last few days and she’d never thought she’d feel it but she missed ice skating in New Jersey.

“Anyone else think that guy Stan was planted?” Steve asked.

“YES!” Carol yelled, as if she’d been waiting for someone else to say it.

Stan was an old white guy with big glasses who represented one of the undecided voters. His question was about social security.

“ _How_ are there still people deciding?” Val said, slowly drifting along and staring up at the sky.

“Not everyone is so sure,” Steve replied, trying to be diplomatic. “Other people –”

“Other people are idiots,” Val interrupted. “They look at the two candidates and can’t tell them apart. _That_ I don’t get.”

Carol’s eyebrows hiked. “Other people vote for me. Idiots voted me in. Statistically, they had to make up some of the numbers.”

Val finally moved to stand in the shallower end of the pool, trailing her hands through the water as she spoke.

“Can we trust people to make the right choice?”

Steve frowned. “Yes.”

“No,” Darcy said, and he stared at her.

There was an awkward pause and Darcy felt all eyes on her, waiting.

“No, we can’t assume anything. It’ll be close. We’re seeing it from the inside. Our expectations can’t make us contemplative even for a second,” she said, throwing up her hands.

“Tony _is_ the right choice, though,” Steve said, and Darcy shrugged.

“Not to everyone.”

Steve groaned, deciding he wanted to float and he leaned back.

Darcy wasn’t doubting their chances, she was trying to be realistic. She knew Steve saw it differently, probably thinking she was being cynical again.

“You broke his spirit,” Sam said, and Darcy shrugged again.

She moved closer to Steve and splashed him without warning. He spat at her in retaliation, making Sam groan about personal hygiene.

“Would you get a room?” Val yelled, and Darcy shot her an exasperated look.

“Pot calling the kettle black,” she retorted.

“Why does it have to be _black_ , though?” Val threw back in mock hurt.

-

Riding the elevator back to their floor, the water still dripping from Darcy’s hair she glanced up at Steve who was leaning his head against the wall.

“You know, this time in two weeks we’re done,” he murmured.

He hadn’t acknowledged the end before. He spoke about Tony winning, not that the process would be finished because he won.

“Yeah. Shit’s crazy,” Darcy murmured.

“Yeah.”

She felt her heart sink and she sighed. She thought of that stupid Tiffany’s bag. She had no idea where their relationship was going. Darcy still had all her stuff in storage in Queens, waiting for her to get back to. They had separate hotel rooms still but they stayed in each other’s beds depending on their mood or how long they worked through the night.

She loved him, and he loved her. Except they’d never been together outside of the situation of an election year.

“I laughed in Stern’s face tonight,” she said, the words so sudden she didn’t have time to think them through. She blurted them and Steve looked confused for a second.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I did it to fuck with him,” Darcy went on. “I wanted to say all the things I thought about him, like he was the amalgamation of every other man like him who defied me –”

She cut herself off, rolling her eyes. She knew she sounded way too dramatic.

The elevator reached their floor and they walked out.

“I just wanted you to know what I’m like, even when you’re not around. I feel like I keep waiting for there to be a moment when I push you too far and we go back to –to…”

Darcy stopped again, groaning. Why was it always so hard for her to express herself when it came to Steve? She’d rather do this with her hands or mouth, not actual _words_.

They paused in the hallway between their hotel rooms that faced each other. Darcy gnawed at her lip as Steve watched her with his intense blue eyes, his furrowed brows.

“I’m scared, okay? But don’t make a big deal about it,” she snapped, as if he’d been the one speaking the whole time, berating her. She huffed, turning away to go to her door.

“I won’t make a big deal about it,” he replied, and Darcy flinched.

She glanced back at him, and he was still standing still and watching her. She felt her eyes prickle, the tears coming without her mind fully explaining all the feelings she was having. She’d never been good at this. It was so much easier to have never be romantic with men.

That was what she thought before she met Steve Rogers, at least.

“Fuck it, I’m making a big deal about it,” Steve whispered, and he moved toward her, his hands going to the sides of her face before he crashed into her, kissing her hard.

Darcy began to cry as she kissed him back, feeling like her chest could crack open. She made a vulnerable sound against him and Steve sighed in return, Darcy’s hands reaching to tug him closer, to cradle his face as well.

They shuffled toward her door and Darcy fumbled the key before getting it in the lock, Steve still pressing against her. She let them inside, turning back to him when the door shut.

He kissed her once more, and he wasn’t holding any sound or feelings. He had never been like this before. He whimpered as their tongues tangled, breath hot on skin.

“Let me,” he whispered, and he pulled back, tugging at her shirt to pull it up.

She lifted her arms, revealing her bikini. She pulled down her shorts and kicked off her shoes. Steve did the same. He smelt of chlorine and musk and Darcy joined him in another kiss, shuffling over to the bed.

“Let me,” he whispered again. His throat bobbed. “Let me be nice to you. Please.”

 _Oh._ Darcy gave a half-sob, half-laugh and nodded. Steve smiled at her, his own eyes shining. He stripped off everything then did the same to Darcy, kissing her shoulders, her neck. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and Darcy hissed, her fingers gripping his scalp.

“I love you,” he murmured into her skin. “I love you. I love you…”

He settled them on her unmade bed, resting in the cradle of Darcy’s hips. His gaze never left her eyes as he settled between her legs, lining them up. When he breached her Darcy gasped, nails digging into his arms. Their eyes only closed when he pressed his forehead to hers.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Darcy whimpered, pulling him into another kiss. He sucked on her tongue and she felt high, dizzy with him on and all around her. They moved slowly together and Darcy had no idea how long they made love, but by the time she came she was trembling all over, desperate.

It was a bloom, a hard throb and she tensed all over, sighing at the end. Steve kept rocking, his breath coming in short pants into her mouth.

She existed before Steve. It was hard to remember she was even alive before she met him. As frightened as she was of losing him she knew there was no living on apart from him, and she couldn’t try to push him away anymore.

The wave of intense feelings must have shown on her face because Steve cupped her cheek, his hips still moving.

“Baby.”

“I’m okay,” she breathed. “I love you, too.”

When he came he was slack-jawed and moaning, the sight of him in ecstasy making Darcy want to keep going at it despite her exhaustion.

She rubbed the pink blotches on his cheeks, laughing breathlessly.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Newsflash asshole, I've been the villain the entire goddamn time!"
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	24. Part Twenty Four: The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello. Lovely to be back, thank you for your patience. We're almost done.

 

 

_"All I do is kill shit, shit even when I'm chillin'_

 

_I'm Jay-Z on a bad day, Shakespeare on my worst days_  
_Never been a punk, trust you can get it in the worst way..."_

\- "Offence" by Little Simz

 _"I just want to make a change_  
_I just wanna change, I just wanna change..."_

\- "Oh No!" by Marina and The Diamonds

**Part Twenty Four: The End**

Darcy’s phone alarm blared in perfect synchronization to Steve’s own alarm.

She squints blearily in the dark, her hand fumbling for the device before she swipes the ‘dismiss’ option on her display. Steve is faster because he’s used to being up so early.

Darcy doesn’t groan. It’s the only time she’s ever been silent as the day begins for her. It was four in the morning and she switched on her lamp. Steve rolled over, pressing a kiss to her head.

“What are you thinking?” he murmured.

Darcy rubs her eyes. “I’m thinking ‘fuck’.”

They dress and leave the hotel room. Steve is going straight to D.C. while Darcy has a couple things to do before leaving New York. Namely, voting. She decided to vote on Election Day instead of doing an early vote like Steve did to help her clear her mind. This was about to be both the longest and shortest day of her life.

“I’ll call you when I land,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Okay?”

Sam shook his other hand and Darcy nodded.

“Yeah. And no gym today, okay?”

Steve chuckled. Darcy doesn’t expect him to agree to that. How he ever manages to run on so little sleep is still a mystery to her.

“I love you,” she said, and he smiled.

“Love you, too,” he said.

They share a quick kiss and he left, walking backwards with a smile still on his face before ducking out of the lobby front doors. Darcy gave Sam a look, eyebrows raised.

“You ready to exercise your power, Wilson?”

-

Darcy wore a pair of thick black sunglasses and her beanie, her arm linked with Sam. They pull up at a voting center in Queens and Darcy loved the way her heart beat with anticipation, because it felt fucking good to express herself, even if it was just through a ballot on a Tuesday in November.

“D-Day?” Sam said, and Darcy smirked.

“Probably shouldn’t use war references.”

“What, and you’re not in the trenches?” he added.

“Not yet. Not until I get back to the hive.”

“Bee references now, Lewis?”

Darcy smiled, ducking her head.

“Hey!”

She turned toward the voice, seeing Jane standing with her hands in her coat pockets, her big smile shining.

“Oh, my God, Jane!”

Darcy flew to her, pulling her into a tight hug. She hadn’t seen her in months. She felt tears spring in her eyes as she clung to her.

“When did you get back?”

“Last night,” Jane said, laughing. “I wanted to surprise you. Sam told me you’d be here.”

Darcy drew back, her hands on Jane’s little shoulders.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah, I missed you, too,” Jane said.

They went inside, coming out with their little ‘I Voted 2020’ stickers on their coats. Darcy kept her hand in Jane’s as they walked down the street, Sam keeping a short distance behind them.

“God, after today, it’s over,” Jane said. “It’s gone by so fast. It’s so crazy to me. I remember the day Stark came in, and now he’s about to be elected.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Darcy said, feeling her stomach flip.

“We know he’s gonna win,” Jane retorted. “You said so for months.”

Darcy nodded, stopping at their parked rental car. Sam went to unlock the doors and slipped into the front seat.

“When will you be back?” Jane asked.

“I don’t know,” Darcy admitted, her words a rush. She swallowed, tightening her grip on Jane’s hand. “Soon. Real soon.”

Darcy clung to her again, and Jane made a little noise in her throat. When they separated and Sam started the car, Jane looked like she was trying not to cry.

“You _call_ me, okay?” she said, and Darcy nodded fiercely.

 -

“Okay!” Steve yelled, clapping his hands.

He somehow noticed Darcy and Sam arrive even though the office was running amok. Phones were ringing constantly and Darcy could see people racing back and forth, calling out numbers.

“Everyone!”

The main floor fell to a relative silence and Darcy felt all eyes on her. She put her hands on her hips.

“So.”

Her eyes ran over the different faces, wide-eyed hopeful people in their _Stark 2020_ shirts. Darcy stared at one girl’s shirt, her _I Voted_ sticker clearly visible on her chest.

“Everyone, three cheers for Darcy Lewis!” someone yells, and Darcy smiles, her chest tightening.

“Hip-hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip-hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip-hip!”

“Hooray!”

Darcy covered her face with her hands, shaking her head as the whole office dissolved into cheers. She rolled her eyes, laughing. Her eyes met Steve’s across the room and the clapped with everyone else. He had a pen behind his ear.

“I want everyone today… to hold onto their butts!” Darcy yells, and the office shook with more cheers and laughter.

Steve strode over to her once everyone fell back into their work, scooping her up and giving her a bear hug.

“Okay, Captain. You better be on those numbers. I’m counting on you.”

“You bet, ma’am,” he replied, kissing her cheek.

Darcy turned her head to Sam.

“I got one more interview, you wanna sit on it with me?”

Sam looked around, watching the interns running about with coffee.

“Yeah. And maybe I’ll find a Danish sometime soon.”

-

Sam found them both slices of apple pie, and Darcy laughed at the sight of them sitting on her desk when she excused herself for her last interview as campaign manager.

She stuck her fork in her slice, putting her feet up on her desk. She saw her phone light up and she knew it was time. She unlocked it.

“Hi, this is Cynthia, I’m one of the co-producers. Are you ready for Wolf to cross to you?”

“Absolutely,” Darcy replied, her mouth full. She swallowed, Sam shaking his head at her.

She waited on hold for a few minutes, listening to the NBC news feed on her laptop on her desk.

“Wolf’s ready.”

“Okay.”

She muted her feed, hearing a flurry of activity in her ear. The newsroom was running at full capacity today. There was a panel in the background and Darcy’s interview was only meant to take up about five minutes of Wolf Blitzer’s time before they cut back to people arguing over red and blue states.

There was an ad break and Wolf smiled at the camera briefly.

“Hello, Miss Lewis, I hope you’re well today.”

“I’m great. You look like you’re in the middle of _Animal House_.”

Wolf chuckled and Darcy smiled. The producer gave them a countdown and Darcy cleared her throat, wiping crumbs from her mouth.

_“We’re back on Election Day 2020. I’m Wolf Blitzer and I’m speaking to Darcy Lewis, co-campaign manager for Tony Stark. Thank you for being with us today, Miss Lewis. We know how busy you are so we’ll not take up too much of your time.”_

Darcy laughed. “Thank you for having me.”

_“Miss Lewis, from what polls have been saying, this will be a close result nationwide. We’ve seen Tony Stark go from strength to strength, his following loyal to the point of delusion, one article said yesterday. We’ve had tragedy and absurdity collide during this campaign and many wonder… how did you do it? What was your main strategy?”_

Sam’s eyes widened slightly as he listened. Darcy put down her fork.

“My strategy was to tell the truth.”

Wolf paused. Darcy let out a short laugh.

“I let Tony be Tony.”

-

_“Iron Man is my hero and Tony Stark is my President.”_

Darcy sipped more coffee, watching the plasma screen TV showing clips of voters leaving centers across the country.

“Is that what that writer meant when they called it loyalty to the point of delusion?” Darcy muttered, and Steve shook his head.

“Millennials are gonna swing this and they can’t stand it,” he said.

“Florida’s gonna swing this,” Darcy countered, and Steve’s eyebrows hiked. “Wanna hear a Florida joke?”

“It’s an easy target.”

Darcy licked her lips, blinking.

Steve sighed. “Alright, what is it?”

“Florida’s power as a decider in Presidential elections is the same as that Indonesian baby that smokes forty cigarettes a day. It’s kind of cool that it does that but it’s terrifying and awful at the same time.”

Steve stared at Darcy for a few seconds until he turned his head, snorting into his shoulder.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I read that one on Twitter.”

Steve began to laugh, clutching his stomach. Darcy smiled at him, shrugging a shoulder.

Natasha turned up with her hair a different color and Darcy’s eyes bulged. She knew that she was a natural redhead, but she hadn’t expected her to revert to the color before the election. Darcy had seen footage of her when she skated in Russia with a long red braid down her back.

“Um, _hello_.”

“Hi,” Natasha replied, smiling at them both. “You ready to refresh web pages until we all get carpal tunnel?”

-

“Arizona.”

“Seriously?” Darcy said, looking over at Steve.

He was holding a phone to his ear, his eyes on his laptop screen. He nodded.

“That means we’re tying,” Darcy said, and he nodded again. “We just need –”

“Fuck, we just need California,” Steve said. He put down his phone, looking around the sea of people. “Can someone get me California? Any estimate?”

“No, still going.”

Darcy bit her lip. They weren’t expecting Arizona. She leaned back in her chair, feeling wide awake despite the time. She’d been at it for hours. She wasn’t wearing shoes anymore, instead choosing to pad across the carpet in her nylons. She walked over to Natasha, who was still trying to get some numbers on California.

“We’ve got a couple hours, maybe,” Darcy said. “You can nap.”

“I’m not going to sleep,” Natasha replied with a little laugh.

“Yeah.”

Darcy’s eyes went to Natasha’s wave of shining red hair, giving a little smile.

“You look really good.”

“I feel like myself more,” Natasha said, smiling back at her.

Darcy’s phone began to buzz in her hand and she glanced down at it. Tony had spoken to her twice today already.

“What’s up?”

“You got a sec?”

“We’re waiting on your state, Tone.”

“Meet me upstairs. But… higher.”

“Are you in the suit?”

He hung up on her and Darcy narrowed her eyes at her phone, Natasha staring at her.

“What’s going on?”

“Tony might be freaking out.”

Darcy stuffed her phone in her blazer pocket, glancing over at Steve. He was talking on his phone, his eyes meeting hers.

She stalked over to him and he hung up, his face changing.

“What is it? Emergency?”

“I dunno. Tony’s upstairs.”

“How did he -?” Steve’s eyes widened. “The suit?”

Darcy shrugged, feeling her heartbeat pick up. She ran a hand through her hair.

“You got that his concession?”

“He won’t need that,” Steve said, though they both knew they had written one just in case. “If he’s on the roof right now, wear your coat.”

Darcy made a face and she sighed.

“He was meant to come by with Pepper soon, anyway,” Steve added, and Darcy nodded. “You okay?”

“Tired, I guess,” Darcy muttered. “But weirdly awake. What if I crash the second California’s called?”

“You won’t,” Steve said with a little smile. “But you can crash in a couple days when we get to Honolulu.”

Darcy stared at him, the room falling away as he looked back at her, his gaze steady. And then he blinked, looking almost shy.

“You booked tickets to Hawaii?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Except you haven’t seen me outside of a campaign. You might not like me.”

Darcy scoffed. Steve doubting how she felt about him was the closest thing to stupid he’d ever done.

“I guess you better impress me then, Captain,” she said. She snatched up her coat from where it sat on the back of her office chair.

She walked off, giving him a little salute when she turned her back to face him at the last second, and she could see he was smiling at her from across the floor. She ducked out to the elevators and took one up to the roof.

She wrapped her coat around her, feeling the cold air hit her face and she shivered, squinting in the dark.

“Hey.”

“Oh, Jesus. _Fuck_ ,” she gasped, clutching her chest.

Tony stepped out from the dark and Darcy’s glare faded when she saw he was indeed wearing one of his Iron Man suits, the faceplate lifted.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, and he smiled at her.

“Wanted to get away. Went to the bathroom, bought myself about ten minutes.”

“I’m guessing Happy has no idea where you went,” Darcy grumbles, coming closer. “Y’know, it’s me who’ll get a lecture about safety protocols.”

Predictably, Tony didn’t seem bothered. Darcy lifted a hand and ran it down one of his arms, feeling the cool metal under her fingers.

“I never saw… these things up close,” she said, and Tony nodded. “Were you having one last spin before you lock them away?”

Tony lifted a brow. “Well. That, and I have something to give you.”

“What is it?”

“You just have to do something for me, first, kiddo.”

She follows him as he walks to sit down, the hydraulics whirring with each steps.

“Sure, anything.”

He chuckled. “You’d do anything for me, without even asking what it is?”

“Uh… yeah,” Darcy said, shrugging.

She sat beside him, looking out at the streetlights below. She could hear a siren in the distance. She turned her head to see Tony holding a little piece of paper folded in half between two metal fingers. Darcy took it, unfurling it.

“Tony, this is a check for twelve… twelve million dollars.”

“Yeah, I signed it, too,” he murmured, smiling at her. “You don’t remember me promising to quadruple your income when I won?”

Darcy stared at all the zeroes before shaking her head.

“I… didn’t think you were serious.”

“I can afford it.”

“I know _that_ ,” she retorted. She folded it up and pushed it toward him. “I don’t need it. Correction – I don’t want it.”

Tony threw his head back and laughed and Darcy’s eyebrows hiked.

“You’re probably the only person who’d ever turn that down.”

He kept on laughing and Darcy still held it out to him, waiting for him to take it back.

“It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it. You can sail around the world and never work another day in your life. You can write a book. You can write ten books. You can start a company with Cap, making peach preserves and sell them at Whole Foods.”

“You know I don’t want to do any of that,” Darcy said.

He leveled her gaze.

“Darcy, I owe you everything.”

Darcy snorted. “Please.”

“I’m serious,” Tony added. He curled her fingers around the check and pushed it back. “That is all yours. You can donate it to your charity. You can give every girl at your program a college education.”

“Tony…”

“Why not? Why not take it?” Tony said, and Darcy tried to find her voice.

“Because… because I’m terrified of twelve million dollars, okay? It’s easier when it’s not something I can see close up. And this is the most anyone has ever done for me -”

“You are worth _every cent_ ,” Tony said, leaning closer. He kissed her forehead. “Alright?”

Darcy feels her eyes sting with unexpected tears and she lets out a shaky breath.

“Jesus Christ. Okay. Just… hold onto it for me for a while, Tone.”

He took it back and Darcy wiped her eyes. It had finally hit her that by this time tomorrow she’d be unemployed, and she wouldn’t be with him anymore. She sniffled.

“Send a million to Cherie’s family, so she can have all the doctors and therapists she can possibly get. And if she wants to start a jewelry company, let her.”

Tony chuckled, nodding. “Okay.”

He took her hand in his again and they looked at one another. Darcy could feeling something passing between them.

“Come work for me.”

Darcy looked at the sky, laughing. “God.”

“Or don’t. But… don’t push this away,” he said, and she nodded. His eyes had gone glassy. “You can always come back to us. Always.”

“Yeah,” Darcy breathed.

She looked down at their hands and sniffled.

“Tony –”

He cut her off. “I love you. You know that, right? I love you to bits.”

Darcy chuckled. “You beat me to it, damn it.”

She swiped at her eyes, nodding. She swallowed a couple times.

“I love you, too.”

They collided in a hug and Darcy sobbed, his metal fingers in her hair.

“Sweet girl.”

When they separated, Tony stood up, offering her a hand. Darcy took it, and then he unexpectedly knelt and gathered her in his arms, before taking off into the air.

Darcy gave a scream, clinging onto him.

“I hate it, I hate it, put me down…”

“You’re fine.”

“Tony, I’m flying through the fucking air – how is that fine?!” she squawked, burying her face into his chest and squeezing her eyes shut. “Oh, God.”

“We’re not up that high.”

She moved her head back, glancing down and her stomach dropped. She whimpered, terrified she’d somehow slip. She shifted so her arms were firmly wrapped around his neck, taking a few deep breaths to settle herself.

“You good?”

“I’m gonna kill you one day, Tone.”

“Don’t say that when you visit me at work, kiddo. The Secret Service would be concerned.”

-

Darcy stumbled back into the headquarters, feeling eyes on her. She gave a little laugh on the edge of hysterical.

“Are you okay?” one intern asked, and Darcy waved them off.

“Yeah, it’s chill. Super chill. Where’s Steve?”

She spotted him and she wandered over, seeing he was refreshing the same website as before every few seconds, waiting for results.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, abandoning his screen for her, his hands going to her waist.

Darcy gave another little laugh.

“Tony, uh… he took me – up? Up in his suit?”

“He flew you _off the roof_?” Steve said, and Darcy detected the briefest outrage at the thought that she was in any danger because of Tony.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Darcy said, grabbing his face. “I think I needed it. Made me stop thinking for a little while, since I was scared shitless.”

She pressed a short kiss to his lips and Steve seemed confused.

“How’s California?”

“Busy countin’,” he said, distracted. “You sure you’re fine?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said faintly.

She rubbed his cheek with her thumb and his gaze softened.

-

 _“We are… coming to the conclusion of this race_ ,” Wolf Blitzer said, touching his earpiece with a finger. _“We are hearing now from sources that the votes are in for California. It has been neck and neck for the last two hours with votes coming in across the country but we can confidently say that Tony Stark is at 62.”_

Darcy was staring at the TV screen with the entire office. She held her breath.

_“Tony Stark is at 62 percent in California.”_

“Holy shit,” she whispered.

_“It can be decided now that Tony Stark has secured enough votes to become the 46 th President of the United States.”_

The room erupted in cheers and Darcy screamed, jumping up and down. She grabbed Natasha, squeezing her as they jumped together. She felt hands on her shoulders and turned to see Sam standing there and she gave a squeal. She let go of Natasha.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered, clutching him to her, his arms tight around her.

People were running around, grabbing the stash of champagne they said in storage. Darcy heard music start up as Wolf Blitzer kept repeating the news.

Tony _won._

Sam laughed and Darcy joined him, feeling happy tears well in her eyes. Sam nodded behind her and she turned her head to see Steve standing by himself and looking at them.

She let go of Sam and ran to him, and he lifted her above his head, spinning her around.

“You did it!”

“I fucking did it!” Darcy screamed and she laughed. “ _We_ fucking did it!”

“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he said, and he brought her into a kiss, arms wrapped around her as he placed her on the floor once again.

They kissed again and again, Darcy’s heartbeat in overdrive. She felt like adrenaline had kicked in and she was shaking all over. Steve cradled her face in his big hands, pulling back only to breathe, his forehead pressed to hers.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, and Darcy gave a wet little laugh.

She stayed in his arms for some time, sighing against him while everyone else began to drink and dance.

Tony and Pepper arrived a few minutes later, and Tony flew to her, Pepper beside him as they both brought Darcy into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Darcy,” Pepper whispered. “Thank you so, so much. For everything. We love you.”

Darcy whimpered, feeling tiny without her shoes on. She looked up at them both, wiping her eyes.

“Your speech,” she began, pulling out a piece of paper from her blazer. “I made some changes.”

Tony took it from her, unfolding it and giving it a quick glance. He then tore it in two.

Darcy burst into a smile. It was exactly what she thought he’d do.

“The media’s on its way,” an intern piped up and Darcy nodded.

“You got this,” she said to Tony, and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, winking. “Because I know I’ve got you.”

-

Stern’s concession speech played in the background as Tony was made up by the makeup artist who arrived with the rest of his entourage.

Stern seemed like a shell of himself. Darcy had been tempted to find his personal cell number and call him singing “nah nah nah nah nah I beat you, ha ha” but the parties full of young voters all over the country seemed to be doing that for her.

Val and Carol came by, each of them pulling Darcy into a tight hug. Clint and his wife Laura were the same. There was so much positive energy flooding every room Darcy went into that night. It was all contagious. It felt like Darcy had changed things, _really_ changed them.

She got back to her hotel room, slightly tipsy with Steve crawling into bed beside her. Their kissing turned to heavy petting and moans of pleasure. However, Darcy passed out by the time she took off all her clothes, the exhaustion finally getting to her. She’d been up for more than twenty-four hours.

She woke around ten the next morning, Steve beside her and reading the paper. He glanced down at her and she smiled.

“You didn’t dream it,” he said, and he tugged her hand up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles.

-

Darcy was rifling through drawers in Steve’s room back in Brooklyn, hunting for a denim skirt she’d stashed there months ago. She finally found it, tugging it out from behind a pair of Steve’s jeans.

She walked back into the living room, Steve sitting on the couch.

They were meant to be leaving for Hawaii tomorrow. Steve managed to pack faster than Darcy, and he watched her from his seat as she shoved more clothes into her already over packed suitcase.

“Goddamn it,” she muttered, finding that her sunhat was definitely not going to fit.

“Maybe you need another case?”

Darcy harrumphed.

“Darcy.”

“What?” she said. She was attempting to close the suitcase, but the zipper was getting jammed. “What is it?”

“Darcy,” Steve said again, and she spun around, glaring.

“What?!”

She looked down at the coffee table in front of him. His hand was outstretched, touching a little black box resting there.

She abandoned her case, walking over to him on the couch. She knelt beside the table, staring at the little box. He moved his hand away, waiting. She met his gaze, trying to read him.

She leaned over, taking the box. She opened it.

“Oh, you bastard!” she yelled, covering her mouth a second later.

A diamond ring sat in the box, gleaming up at her. She stared at Steve with wide eyes.

“Do you know how hard it was to hide that from you?” Steve said, and she shook her head.

“How long have you had it?”

“A couple months.”

“But the Tiffany’s bag,” she said, and he gave a little smile. “Unless… you bought it then. With the earrings.”

“The earrings are my mom’s,” Steve said, and Darcy felt her stomach flip. “One of the only things I still had of hers when I left the children’s home with Bucky.”

One of Darcy’s hands went to touch her earring, feeling the edges of it.

“You asked them for a spare box, when you got the ring,” Darcy murmured, and he nodded.

She had started shaking, and she looked down at the ring again. She gave a little whimper.

_“Steve.”_

“Will you marry me?” he asked, and she glanced up at him.

Her guts twisted. She felt so much so fast she was dizzy with it all, letting out a shaky breath.

“But… I don’t know how. To be married, to… be like that,” she said. She met his gaze, seeing he was as touched as her, barely keeping it together. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Absolutely,” he said instantly, and he reached for her.

She climbed into his lap, kissing him. She wanted him so much it hurt. She still held the box between them as their tongues tangled, their kisses turning clumsy and urgent.

“Is that a yes?” Steve asked, pulling her back, his blue eyes all she could see.

“Yes –”

He cut her off with another kiss and Darcy gave a breathless laugh, giving herself to him completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I love you so fuckin' much." - Steve's Brooklyn rises the more emotional he gets.
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	25. Part Twenty Five: Clap for Mama or, The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for every comment, kudos and view I got for sharing this story. What started off as something small grew and grew and I'm so happy I pulled this off. Oh, boy. The fun I have had. 
> 
> I love you 3000.

_"Do I look like,_  
_The walk over me type_  
_I'ma whole lotta strong ass American woman.."_

\- "American Woman" by Muddy Magnolias

 

_"Red, white, blue's in the skies, summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes_  
_I'm your National Anthem..."_

\- "National Anthem" by Lana Del Rey

 

_"If I'm shinin', everybody gonna shine."_

\- "Juice" by Lizzo

 

 

**Part Twenty Five: Clap for Mama, or The Beginning**

 

 

 

“Hey, you.”

Steve turned, his face lighting up in a smile. Darcy walked to behind his desk and brought him into a kiss, his fingers threading into her hair.

Every few days Darcy visited Steve at work. His foundation was gaining more traction with each passing month, and since Tony took office three years ago Steve was able to help more veterans, specializing in treating their mental health. He didn’t have to wait for loans to be approved with the money he and Darcy shared.

Steve pulled back and Darcy smiled wider. He still looked at her the same way.

“Come with,” she said, taking his hand and leading him out of his office.

They walked down the hallway to the receptionist desk where Miles sat with their blonde toddler on his knee, watching a cat video on You Tube.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, baby girl,” Steve said, scooping up the toddler and kissing her nose. “You ready for your trip?”

“Yeah.”

Darcy pulled a piece of folded paper out of her bag and handed it to Steve.

“She drew this for you.”

Steve smiled, kissing Sarah again. “For me? Does Daddy have scoliosis?”

Darcy giggled and their daughter smiled at her. Steve assessed the drawing, humming.

“Very nice. I’ll put this in my office for while you’re gone.”

“It’ll be three days, Sar-bear,” Darcy reminded her, squeezing one of her little legs. “Say bye to Daddy. We’ve gotta get to the airport.”

Sarah offered her face to Steve and he chuckled, kissing her. He handed her to Darcy, taking her bag for her.

“Bye, Miles.”

“See you, Darce.”

Steve and Darcy walked down the steps to the exit, the silver sedan waiting for them outside on the kerb.

“Three days,” Darcy said. She knew Steve would miss them like crazy. Usually Sarah stayed behind with her father when Darcy travelled.

“Yeah.”

They opened the backseat and put Sarah in her car seat, both of them buckling her in. Steve pressed a kiss to her forehead and he shut the door, turning to Darcy.

“Three days,” Darcy said again. Steve nodded. “I’ll be okay –”

He cut her off with a kiss, putting everything into it, catching her off-guard. Her hand went to clutch his face, his tongue slipping between her lips. Darcy began to chuckle, feeling his hands rest on her butt. After several seconds he pulled back, licking his lips.

“I’ll take next Friday off,” he murmured, glancing at her mouth.

She planted another slow kiss on his lips without closing her eyes.

“Long weekend, huh?” Darcy replied, and he nodded. She glanced in the direction of their daughter. “I’ll see if my mom will take her. Or Jane.”

Steve smiled, nodding. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she murmured with a short peck to his lips.

She slipped into the front seat, putting on her seat belt. Steve watched her start the car and roll the window down.

“Tell Tony I said hi.”

Darcy winked at him. Sarah waved from her seat.

-

Darcy wore a sharp blazer and fitted pants, forgoing heels for a pair of glittery Keds just to make Tony laugh, which he did the second he saw her walk into the Oval Office.

“Happy Birthday, Mister President…”

“Don’t start that, toots,” he said, bringing her into a tight hug.

She did that every time she saw him. Every few weeks she made a trip to Washington to catch up with Tony. Darcy knew that she would always remember the first time she came after the inauguration, when Tony made every adviser leave the room and he had Darcy sit in the special chair with her hands resting on the desk.

“Where is the rugrat?”

Darcy pulled back, tugging Tony’s fingers. “Pepper’s got her with Morgan.”

Tony smiled. “You good, kid?”

“Exhausted, Mister President,” she replied. “Can you do something about having shorter work days?”

“I’ll see what I can do. What about a day off for people named Darcy?”

She smiled, squeezing him. “Thanks, Tone.”

They fell into comfortable silence, and she sighed, looking around. She spotted a new photo frame on the desk and wandered over, turning it toward her.

“Oh.”

It was a photo they took during a weekend several months ago. It was the Starks and the Rogers families together, all of them laughing.

“I forgot about this one.”

“I have to put that away sometimes when press is in here, but…”

There was a buzz of his intercom and Tony pressed the little button.

“Yeah.”

“Mike Goldstein is asking about lunch, Mister President.”

“Thank you, Annie. Darcy’s coming with.”

“Yes, Mister President.”

Darcy smiled at him. Tony gave a sigh.

“You know, I still miss getting my own donuts. I have a donut guy, now.”

“Does he whip one out of his suit jacket, or -?”

Tony smirked. “Exactly. How did you know?”

They giggled together.

-

“Three more bites, Sar-bear. Then Morgan can show you the circuits.”

They all sit at the Stark dining table. Darcy knew that forcing Sarah to eat would be a struggle, but often enough the toddler obliged her requests, even if they were just nibbles. Sarah was going through another fussy stage.

Morgan picked up Sarah’s fork and shoved three ravioli into her mouth.

“See? She’s done.”

Darcy chuckled, shaking her head at the precocious seven year-old.

“Okay, you can go.”

Morgan picked up Sarah and they walked off, a Secret Service agent following after them. Darcy put her chin in her hand and watched them leave.

“Tony tell you about Morgan?” Pepper asked.

“No,” Darcy said, glancing at the First Lady. “What?”

“She did the test.”

“And?”

“Perfect score,” Pepper said, her eyebrows raised.

“Seven years old and she beat the IQ test?” Darcy half-yelled, and Pepper began to laugh. “Jesus Christ. Are you gonna do something about that?”

“What? Send her to a boarding school in Switzerland?” Tony muttered, swiping his mouth with a napkin.

Darcy shrugged a shoulder. “Is she happy here?”

“Yes. Just… Daddy’s busy with Iran and the debt ceiling –”

“I could take her some weekends, you know. I’d be happy to.”

“Darcy, she can’t be going back and forth that much,” Pepper said gently, and Darcy knew she was right. “We’ll get more tutors. She can apply for a university somewhere in a few years.”

“Can she come by my non-profit in the summer?” Darcy asked.

Pepper and Tony exchanged a look.

“Yeah, if… if she wants to.”

“ _She_ asked _me_ ,” Darcy said, smirking. “She wants to tutor girls in Queens.”

She took a sip of water as they chuckled, Tony shaking his head.

“Sometimes I worry about her not being a kid.”

“She _is_ a kid, and she’s okay. More than okay,” Darcy answered him, and Pepper nodded.

“She was never going to be an ordinary child, honey,” Pepper added. “What’s important is that she’s safe and happy.”

Pepper took their empty plates away. She still maintained her own independence from the personal chefs. Tony was the one who was spoiled because he still sucked at cooking.

“How’s the husband?” Tony asked when they were alone.

“Happy. Horny,” Darcy murmured, and Tony snorted. “Sad I’m gone.”

“And how’s my other daughter?”

Darcy smiled, glancing away. “I’m fine. Except –”

She cut herself off with a yawn she couldn’t suppress.

“I should get back to the hotel. Someone roll me down the road.”

She glanced at one of the guys who hung around Tony in the corners of rooms, his earpiece in.

“What about this guy? He’s got some nice biceps.”

Tony chuckled. “She’s kidding, Brown.”

“I’m not,” Darcy said. “Come on, roll me out the door.”

-

“Yay! Clap for Mama, Sar-bear! Yay!”

Darcy laughed, throwing her head back as she drifted on the ice. Natasha clapped along with Steve and Sarah from the bleachers as Darcy circled the rink.

She started to skate backwards again, doing jazz-hands. She glanced at Sarah in Steve’s lap and beamed. The toddler watched in awe even though Darcy’s progress had been slow and perfectly average.

Steve kept yelling encouragement and Darcy laughed, doing more laps of the rink as they watched until she saw a familiar figure on the side, their hands in their pockets.

It was Carol.

“Hey!” Darcy yelled, and she skated over to the edge where the blonde stood. She hopped off the ice and pulled her into a hug.

Carol looked different, and not because her hair was shorter.

“You look so cool! Wow,” Darcy murmured. She searched her face. “What’s up?”

“Can we… talk?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. She looked over to the bleachers and gestured to Natasha and Steve, calling, “I’ll come back!”

She took off her skates, feeling Steve’s eyes watching her in the distance when she walked out with Carol in her sneakers. She would explain to him later. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and Carol did the same.

“You didn’t tell me you were in town,” Darcy said, and Carol gave a laugh that sounded nervous.

“Yeah, I sort of… jumped on a plane. Came over ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about this.”

“What?”

Carol hesitated, before taking a deep breath.

“Darce, I’m… I’m gonna run. In a few years, after Tony’s… done,” Carol said.

Darcy blinked a few times, nodding. “Okay.”

“I’ll – I’ll need someone to help me.”

Did Darcy have some inkling that one day this might happen? Sure, but that was back when she ran Tony’s 2020 campaign. The time had gone by so fast since then that it Carol somehow caught her off-guard.

“I want you to run my campaign in 2028.”

Darcy stared, and Carol stared back at her. Darcy glanced away, looking out at the almost empty parking lot. She could hear cars in the distance, birds chirping in a tree.

“Please say something.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You would’ve seen this coming,” Carol said. “Unless I misinterpreted –”

Darcy cut her off. “No, you didn’t.”

“If you can’t, I understand,” Carol said. “I’m asking now because five years means you have more time. I thought – just, the last time we spoke about it, you said you missed it.”

Darcy let out a breath of a laugh. “Yeah. I miss it.”

She was good. She was the best. But she had a kid and Steve to think about. No, she had already thought about it, hundred times over. She always came to the same conclusion.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do it,” she murmured, and Carol broke into a smile. “I’d love to.”

“Oh, my God,” Carol whispered, and she brought Darcy into a tight hug, kissing her cheek. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Darcy hugged her back, chuckling.

“Have you told your wife?” she murmured into Carol’s shoulder.

“Are you kidding? Val’s been nagging me to ask you for _years_.”

-

Later that week, Darcy put Sarah to bed and waited for Steve.

He was at a meeting with the Department of Veterans Affairs, a dinner that had to be rescheduled half a dozen times. It was unusual for Darcy to be sitting alone in their living room with her feet up, watching _Conan_.

She heard a jangling of keys and turned the volume down, turning her head to see Steve slip inside wearing his plaid shirt from that morning. She loved how rumpled he looked.

“Left the monkey suit back at the office,” he murmured, kissing her lips before settling beside her on the couch. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied. She stopped watching the screen. “I’ve got some news.”

“Carol’s already got who she wants as her V.P.,” Steve replied, smiling down at her.

“No.”

Her frowned. “What is it?”

Darcy swallowed. “I’m pregnant.”

He blinked, his eyes widening. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Is that okay?”

“Is that okay?” he repeated, chuckling. “Jesus.”

He kissed her hard and Darcy melted into it, sighing. It turned into more or less tangled tongues with gripping hands. When she pulled back, her eyes stung at the sight the look on Steve’s face.

“It’s why I’ve been so wiped out,” Darcy said, stroking his beard.

He turned his head to kiss her palm and Darcy blinked rapidly.

“Can we go to bed?”

He answered her by picking her up and carrying her out of the living room and down the hall, past Sarah’s bedroom to their own, pushing the door shut and laying her down on the bed.

Darcy thought about all the nights she’d been there, how this apartment had been so many things to Steve for years before he met her, and now it was hers as well. The office was now a nursery, their bedroom had photographs from both their lives. They had matching bedside tables, a massive double bed replacing Steve’s old king single. The room smelt of her as well as him.

Steve slotted in between her thighs, kissing her with a sigh. Darcy wrapped her legs around him, seeking him out, nails scraping his scalp.

“Two kids with me on the campaign trail?” Darcy murmured.

Steve pushed her hair back, kissing her again and again.

“We’ll make it work.”

“Okay.”

They made love, and Darcy could feel it was different to their other times. She remembered the time they fucked on the couch the day she found out she was having Sarah. She remembered their first time together, after that debate, after Darcy finally admitted to herself that she wanted Steve all to herself.

She thought of the day they first lay eyes on one another, her fingers waggling at him. She thought of the way he looked at her like she was the most fascinating person he’d ever seen, a real pain in his ass.

Darcy trembled, coming with Steve’s mouth capturing hers, and soon he crashed, slipping out of her and falling onto his back beside her. They panted, his arm wrapping around her, drawing her close.

He kissed her, blissed out and dreamy. He wiped at her tears with his thumb.

“Are you always like this?” he murmured, and Darcy smiled at him, more happy tears starting to fall.

“What, charming as hell?”

He chuckled, pulling her into another kiss, Darcy's hand covering his on her bare stomach.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chick...chicka-chicka.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1XgFsitnQw)
> 
>  
> 
>  Edit: An epilogue of sorts can be read [here](https://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/post/186363082548/the-oh-no-epilogue-i-wont-write-a-summary)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


End file.
